


CoSL18: Get Well Soon

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [18]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sick Character, aftermath of last chapter/fic, curses can be cured by sex?, episode rewrite, jewish history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 06:44:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21315901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Part 18 of the Casebook of Sloane Larson!Redos of The Last Fight, Dying on a Prayer, Cry Luison, and Highway of Tears (so...long chapter ^^;)Sloane and Trubel pick up Grimm duties with Nick's powers being gone.  Boxers, Golems, nefarious wolves and cults in junkyards make for a busy schedule. With all that Sloane has to deal with getting sick, FBI agents and worse, some budding romantic feelings!
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt/Juliette Silverton, Rosalee Calvert/Monroe
Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1061588
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	CoSL18: Get Well Soon

It took a while to really explain everything to Wu about Adalind and what they’ve had to deal with. Long enough Nick was out of the room consulting with the doctor just as they finished, and they stood. “Hey…what’s the word?” Sloane asked.

Nick sighed. “He doesn’t see anything wrong with my brain…He wants me to see an ophthalmologist to be sure there’s nothing wrong with the nerves.”

“Are those like…naturally different for you guys?” Wu asked quietly.

“Yes, but only when we see wesen. I’m told and it’s not something normal people can pick up on from the outside. But…they might pick up some slight anomalies. Nothing that’ll send up a red flag though.”

Nick looked at Wu approvingly. “You’re…asking questions again?”

Wu sighed and crossed his arms. “I’ve realized denial should stay a river in Egypt. I don’t know how much help I can be and I’m not quite ready to be all in, but…I’m not going to pretend I don’t know what’s going on anymore. Plus, I do want to help if you’re in trouble right now.”

Nick smiled. “Thanks, Wu. For now though, I got my appointment tomorrow so…we’re kind of cooling our heels till we know more.”

He sighed but nodded. “Okay. I’ll drive you guys home then.”

They nodded in thanks, heading back down to the car. They agreed to keep in contact and Sloane got into her own car to head home. “Trubel?” She frowned when she got no answer and couldn’t find her but decided not to panic. Trubel wasn’t a child she knew. It was just hard not to worry about her.

When it was almost evening, she came through the door. Sloane looked up from the couch and sat up straighter at the agitated look on her face. “Hey…Everything okay?”

“Uh…yeah, fine,” she nodded. “Just…Fine.” That “fine” said nothing about being pulled into a van, taken to a strange warehouse, questioned and offered a job by FBI agent Chavez who figured out she was a Grimm, and then released. It said nothing about that because Chavez had said not to tell anyone, for their safety. So, after freaking out and walking around for a long time, she was there. Perfectly “fine”.

“Okay…Did you eat? I have left over pasta,” Sloane said. She knew something was up but didn’t press.

“Thanks, but I did grab something. I think I’m just going to turn in, kind of wore myself out…”

“Okay…Goodnight.”

“Night,” she said, quickly heading to her room. Sloane blinked but shrugged and turned to finish up her show before heading to bed as well.

\-----------

It was two days later when they were all back on call at the precinct. “Hey,” Nick said, walking over to their desks.

“Hey yourself. How’d it go with the eye doctor?” Sloane asked.

He shrugged. “I have a bunch of extra cones?”

“Uh…congrats?” Hank asked.

“I think that’s part of the Grimm genetics. So that’s normal for you.”

“Yeah, but apparently I have swelling that’s keeping them from being useful.”

Sloane frowned. “Now that’s a problem…How do you feel otherwise though? No more headaches?”

“Not since that night,” he sighed.

“Sloane was telling me about that. You saw someplace else?”

Nick nodded and then reached over to his travel case and pulled out his sketch book. “It was like this. But more…rat infested.”

They took the sketch to look over and Sloane frowned deeply. This…looks like a dungeon.”

“Yeah. Straight out of _Count of Monte Cristo_ or something. You really saw this?” Hank asked.

He nodded. “I don’t know how or why but yeah…”

Sloane sighed. “This isn’t something I’ve heard of…Whatever it is— “”

“It’s connected to what Adalind did to me,” Nick agreed.

“…Look, don’t worry about the Grimm stuff right now,” Sloane said, setting a hand on his shoulder. “You know me, I can handle it till we fix this. And I’ve got Trubel for back-up.”

“…Right…Um…What if…” Nick started. He was honestly worried to tell Sloane that he and Juliette had been discussing what if he _didn’t_ get them back. Or want them back. How leading a normal life might be possible again, at least somewhat. Not like before his “inheritance”, but maybe close. But for Sloane, this was normal. She was proud of being a Grimm, she took her work seriously. Would she be angry? Sad? _What would she think of me?_

“Larson, Griffin, Burkhardt!” They jumped and looked up where Lieutenant Reese was walking towards them. He was in charge while Renard was in the hospital and was under a lot of stress. “We have a call. Body pulled out of the river. Head over to the scene.” He handed the folder to Hank.

“Yessir,” Hank said, quickly grabbing his holster and jacket. Sloane and Nick did the same and they headed out to the car. Wu was the first to meet them, jogging up to where they parked on the hill overlooking the river. There was a path there, but otherwise it was covered in tall reedy grasses down to the pebble beach that no one frequented. There were refineries and factories nearby that made the water a bit suspect.

“Hey…So, um…I don’t know what to look at as far is it being up you guys’ alley, but it is a little weird at least.”

“What do we have?” Nick asked, following him towards the beach. A fish-pale body was lying on the rocks. His clothes were in bad shape, but it was hard to tell if that was the water’s fault or the four large wounds in his chest’s fault.

“City worker found the body this morning,” Wu said. “Dragged him out of the water. Body's pretty beat up. Looks like it's been in the water all night. Vic's name is Robert "Bang Bang" Moore.”

Hank blinked and then looked up with a skeptical smile. “"Bang bang" was on his license?”

“I didn't look at his license,” he said matter-of-factly. “I arrested him on a DUI 100 years ago. He's an ex-boxer. Did time for aggravated assault.”

“Well, something assaulted him back,” Sloane said, using her gloved hand to gently move a bit of his ripped-up shirt.

“Some pretty big holes,” Hank said.

“Not from bullets,” Nick nodded.

“So…what’s that mean?” Wu asked quietly.

“We’re not sure yet. Could be wesen, could be someone stabbed him with something unconventional,” Sloane said.

“He was probably dumped farther upriver,” Nick said.

“We got an address for “Bang Bang”?”

Wu pulled a page from his notebook and held it out. “Just ran it.”

Hank took it, putting it in his pocket. “Where's the city worker?”

“He's right over there,” Wu said, pointing to where someone was questioning a man next to his work truck. "Looks like he was mainly in charge of the river area with all the tools in there—nets, hooks and the like. He didn’t have much to add, just that he’d been driving along, looking for any trash or illegal dumping or the like when he saw the body in the water. He went in to try and see if he was alive and pulled him to shore as he is. So he called the police."

They nodded and walked up the bank. After speaking with him and thanking him for his time, they headed to the address on Moore’s license and spoke to his sister, Lanie Moore. She knew he went to meet with someone the night before, but she didn’t know who. She only knew Bobby had been very upset at whoever it was. He’d been at the Kingston Boxing gym the night before and had gotten busted up badly. He didn’t tell her exactly what he was doing, but she suspected he was still fighting. Despite getting beaten time and again, he loved boxing. That was what she said.

They decided the next stop was the Kingston Boxing Gym and drove over. The place smelled like sweat, a smell that was probably soaked into the rings and mats and bags by now. There were guys at skipping rope, punching bags, and punching each other. “Takes me back,” Hank sighed. His fists were moving subtly, as muscle memory knew what to do the moment they stepped in.

“You box?” Sloane asked.

“A bit. My dad was big into it, boxed in the army. Taught me a bunch so I’d be able to defend myself and my sister. Honestly should’ve taught her more though, she can kick my ass even with my training.”

Sloane and Nick chuckled as they walked over to one man with a clipboard helping another tape his arms. “Stan Kingston?” He shook his head and pointed over to an older man watching a younger jumping rope intently. He had the look of an old bulldog—older, but with power you shouldn’t underestimate.

“Come on, Clay. Put some energy in it! You gotta make weight,” he said to the boy who was jumping like a machine.

“Time,” the other trainer said. Clay put the rope down and went to square up against him.

Nick took that opportunity to walk over with his badge ready to the man still watching them. “Mr. Kingston, I'm Detective Burkhardt. These are my partners, Detective Griffin and Detective Larson.”

He looked at them with a bit of wariness but nodded. “Is there a problem?”

“You promote fights here?” Hank asked.

He nodded, smiling proudly now. “That's right. Clay, come over. Meet a couple of fans.” The younger man paused in sparring with his trainer and walked over. He was a tall African American man, solidly built but still agile looking. Kingston clapped him on the back with a grin. “This young bull is gonna be the next middleweight champion of the world.” The other man came over, a bit older but still fit with sparse gray hair over his head and face. “His trainer, Abe Tucker.” He nodded to them.

“Hey, how's it going?” Clay said, smiling humbly. “Nice to meet you.”

Kingston nodded and then looked at them like the ringmaster of a circus. “Tickets, anything you need, gentlemen, just drop your cards at the door.”

“Uh, I think there’s a little confusion on why we’re here,” Sloane said. The three men frowned curiously. “We're investigating a murder.”

“Murder?” Kingston asked, shocked. Clay and Abe looked equally surprised and confused.

“Bobby Moore,” Nick said.

“Bobby Moore?! You got to be kidding.”

“I’m afraid not. We found him this morning,” Hank said. “We understand he worked the fight here.”

Kingston shook his head, getting defensive. “Hey, I don't know what you were told, but Bobby was in no condition to work anymore. I mean, he was a great fighter in his day,” he looked at Abe who nodded, “but he stayed in the game too long.”

“But you saw him?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, I threw him a few bucks to keep the riffraff out,” he shrugged. “That's about all he could do.”

“And don't you have security for that?” Hank asked.

Kingston smiled beatifically. “I help ex-boxers whenever I can.” None of them were convinced of that.

“Bobby's sister said he was pretty beat up the other night,” Sloane said.

“He did his job. I paid him. He left. That's the last I saw him. Either of you see him after that?”

“No, sir,” Clay said, shaking his head. He looked antsy suddenly though, his confident posture slipping.

Abe shook his head as well and finally spoke up with a dour expression. “Probably got into it with some drunk at a bar somewhere. Wouldn't have been the first time.”

They looked them all over before sighing. Nick took out his wallet, pulling his card. “If you do think of anything else...” He handed a card to each of them and then nodded.

Turning to head back out, they paused under the awning of the gym. “Do we believe Kingston?” Nick asked.

Hank looked at him dubiously. “Did you just ask if I believe a fight promoter?”

Nick rolled his eyes but nodded. “Clay looked nervous.”

“Yeah. Bobby Moore's an ex-fighter. Whoever gave him that beating had to know how to handle themselves.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten the tox screen back. If he was drunk or drugged, someone less skilled could take him,” Sloane said.

“But someone beat the crap out of him before that. Can we say that’s unrelated?”

She sighed but nodded at the point. They all paused when they heard a loud, metallic bang. Looking over, they saw Clay down the street, punching a large blue dumpster like a bag. It didn’t seem to bother him—in fact, it looked like he was putting dents in it. Then Sloane saw it—he woged with two horns coming from his head.

“That is not normal,” Nick said.

“Not even close,” Hank nodded.

“Yeah…because he’s a Heftigauroch. He just woged,” Sloane said quietly. “Horns being a very prominent part of their anatomy.”

Nick glanced at her, and then back at Clay. Of course, he hadn’t seen anything, and he thought about what they’d have missed if Sloane hadn’t been there. “…So, he could be our guy?”

“A possibility, but I’d have to measure to be sure as far as wound placement.”

“Don’t think he’s going to be okay with you doing that,” Hank said.

“And we don’t have a reason to bring him in,” Nick agreed.

“I can go ask him some questions,” she said, moving to go towards him. Before she could though he saw her and quickly headed back inside. Abe was at the door and he looked at them with suspicion before shutting the door. “Well…so much for that,” she sighed. “I don’t suppose I could just…go back in and talk? Ask him what the dumpster did to him?”

“If we let on we know, they all might clam up, Nick sighed. “Let’s go do some research, see what we can find that might link this all together.”

“Fine,” she sighed. She still glanced back curiously at the door, thinking on how to get in.

They returned and spend the next couple of hours researching the three men, Clay and Kingston primarily. “Stan did two years for fraud and tax evasion, was acquitted in '07 of manslaughter, settled six lawsuits with ex-fighters out of court, but still got his promoter's license,” Hank summarized, adding a wry chuckle at the end.

“Very lax on the rules there,” Sloane said. “Abe Tucker isn’t nearly as interesting. Boxer in the navy, got the Ranked in the top 20 but then honorably discharged due to injury. Can’t really do it himself anymore, so he’s spent the last few decades as a trainer with Kingston and others and has had several students that went pretty far. Nothing really stands out.”

“What have you got on the kid?” Hank asked Nick.

Nick shrugged. “Still lives with his mom. Been in the fight game for less than one year.”

“It's cheating, right? If he's wesen?”

“Told you before, there’s wesen in a lot of major sports. And the Olympics? Hmph, doping is the least of their concerns,” Sloane said.

“But in boxing, that kind of edge can turn you into a killer,” Hank pointed out.

“You know, maybe they're all wesen... Stan, Abe, and Clay,” Nick said.

Sloane nodded slowly, seeing the logic there. “But we can’t be sure they’re all Heftigauroch.”

“What are those, anyway? You said they had horns?” Hank asked.

“Yes. They’re like…bulls. But not like Taureus-Armenta you’ve met before, during the Volcanalis incident. Unlike them, Heftigauroch are stronger than humans. Not faster, but stronger, with very strong hands and tough heads.”

“So, they’re big fighters,” Nick sighed.

“No. Actually, they’re generally very calm and peace-loving. Till you get them worked up,” she amended. “Once they’re ready for a fight, they will destroy what worked them up to it. And maybe anything else in their path.”

“Great…” Nick muttered.

“Do you think you can handle it, or should we bring Trubel in on this?” Hank asked.

“Maybe—"

“No,” Nick said firmly. Sloane looked at him in confusion and Hank sighed.

“Nick, she could be a good insider. They already know Sloane is a detective, they’d be suspicious if she went there to start working out there or something.”

“He’s got a point,” Sloane said.

Nick frowned at both of them. “Do neither of you remember that she almost got killed last time? I can't protect her anymore! And you can’t be everywhere,” Nick added before Sloane could ask what he meant by that.

“Nick, Trubel is a Grimm,” Hank said.

“And I'm not,” he said, finishing the unspoken half of that statement. Hank grimaced but nodded. “What are we supposed to do, bring her in to every case that we think involves a wesen? That's not fair to her. She's not a cop.”

“Neither am I, technically,” Sloane reminded him. “I’m here because Renard got me here. Plus, she’s already been through plenty, Nick.”

“Yeah, so why should we pile more onto her?”

“Because that’s how she’s going to learn,” she sighed. “Trubel isn’t going to be prepared just reading books, Nick. She needs to learn how to fight, how to win, and you do that by actually fighting and trying to win. I mean hell, Dierdre did a lot worse than we’re doing.”

Nick didn’t want to ask what was worse and frowned more in disapproval. “She’s a kid—”

“She’s twenty, Nick. She is definitely not a kid. And if you say it’s because she’s a girl, I’ll beat your chivalrous ass here and now.”

Nick blushed and looked down. “I didn’t mean it…like that.”

“Sloane’s right though, Nick. You and she are supposed to be teaching Trubel how to hunt and survive against wesen. And she needs practical experience. The more you teach her, the better she's going to be, and until we find out what's going on with you, we need her to be her best.”

He sighed, not looking pleased but finally nodding. “Okay…fine…”

\--------------

Coordinating with Trubel, they drove to Sloane’s house and she came out to meet them in the car. “What's up?”

“Got a boxer who might have been involved in a murder,” Nick said.

“And he's wesen?”

“He is, but we’re not sure he’s the murderer,” Sloane said.

“It could also be the trainer, the manager, or one of the other boxers,” Hank nodded.

“We want you to spend some time at the gym.”

“Doing what?” she asked, confused.

“Working out,” Nick said, stressing the words as he looked at her in the rearview mirror. “Don't piss anybody off. Don't follow anybody. Don't start any fights.”

Trubel nodded, still seeming to like the idea. “I like boxing gyms. I used to sleep in one in Chicago. I picked up a few moves too.”

“Well, don't use them,” Nick said.

Sloane rolled her eyes and leaned over, so he was looking at her. “Why would she be going to a boxing gym and not training to box, Nick? She’s gotta blend in somehow or this idea isn’t going to work. Ease up.”

Nick huffed and Hank tried not to smile. “The boxer we're looking at is Clay Pittman,” he said. “We know what he is, a…

“Heftigauroch. Think horned steer. Strong.”

“Other than that, we don’t know, so we want to know who's wesen,” Nick said.

Sloane handed her a new phone they’d picked up on the way and she took it with a smile. “Here. All set and ready to go, on your same old number luckily.”

“I texted you the address of the gym,” Nick said. He then turned in his seat and leveled his gaze at her. “You see something, you call,” he said firmly.

“I will,” she nodded, getting out of the car.

“She'll be fine,” Sloane said. “I like that you want to protect her, but she’s a big girl. She’s gotta figure things out for when we’re…not with her.”

Nick sighed, knowing she was right. It still didn’t sit right with him though.

“Whose alibi you want to check out first?” Hank asked.

“The kid,” he said, after a moment of thought.

They went to the address listed for Clay and found his mother, Delores Pittman. Sloane knew she was very possibly a Heftigaurach as well but that she could also be human. Either way, acting as they normally would and questioning her that way was the best option. She also didn’t miss an opportunity to brag about her son, pulling out an album of his fight memorabilia so far.

“Clay just had a knack for it,” she said, turning the page to a poster. She was a quiet, demure woman with close cropped hair and bright, spring-colored clothes that popped against her dark skin. “Such a quiet boy. I never knew he had it in him.”

“Well, he's done really well. You must be very proud,” Hank said.

“Oh, I am,” she said, smiling proudly. “He works hard.”

“You know where Clay was last night?” Nick asked, sitting in a chair across from them on the couch.

She sighed and thought. “After the gym, he came home, ate, soaked in an Epsom bath, went to bed. Sometimes, I wish he'd just go out with his friends.”

“How long has Clay been with Stan Kingston?” Hank asked.

“Oh, Stan discovered Clay about a year ago. He told me my son had something special,” she said, smiling. “He's a... he's a good manager... oh, and his trainer Abe, too. He's like a father to Clay.”

“Clay’s dad isn’t around?” Sloane asked, looking at the pictures in the living room. All of her and Clay, nothing to note a father.

“No, he's...he took off a long time ago,” she said, dimming a little.

“No contact with him?” Hank asked.

“None. But we will be hearing from him soon as Clay hits it big. That's the kind of man he is,” she said with a hint of bitterness.

“Well…he seems to have done alright without him,” Sloane said. She could relate, though she never even knew her father.

“I think so too.” She sighed and then looked at them all seriously. “Look, I'm... I'm not ignorant to the evil around my son... people wanting to take advantage of him, take his money. It's hard to know who to trust.”

“But you trust Stan?” Hank asked.

“I trust my son.”

Nick straightened when his phone started ringing, standing to grab it with a quick apology and go to the front hall. “Burkhardt.”

“Found Bang Bang's car about a mile upriver from where the body was found,” Wu said. “His cell phone was in the seat.”

Nick took a breath, thankful for the break in the case. “I need to know if he called anyone associated with the boxing gym.”

“I already checked. 3:02 P.M. yesterday, placed a call to Stan Kingston. Lasted 23 seconds.”

“Thanks, Wu.”

“Sure thing.”

Nick hanged up and then looked back into the living room. “We need to get back to the gym.”

They didn’t question why, just stood up and thanked Delores for her time.

When they got to the gym, they could see people gathered to watch a match—and then they saw Trubel in the ring, a red padded helmet on her head and gloves on her hand. In the opposite corner was a girl that looked like she could bench press Trubel and looked like she would do it and then twist her into a pretzel. Nick growled softly under his breath. “Didn't I tell her not to get in any fights?”

“She’s in a gym full of fighters, Nick. Someone was going to pick a fight with her somehow and how would it look if she refused?” Sloane sighed.

“…Stop using logic on me,” he said a bit petulantly. Sloane just smiled but then snapped her attention to Trubel when the bell ringed. Then she tensed more when she saw the girl woge into what looked like horse with the skin pulled tight to the skull.

“Shit, the other girl’s a Nuckelavee!” she hissed.

“What?” Nick asked, even more alert now.

The Nuckelavee rushed Trubel and let loose a barrage of blows. Trubel wasn’t prepared and though she defended against some, a left hook sent her sprawling to the matt hard enough her mouth guard popped out. The Nuckelavee sneered and Kingston just looked disappointed.

“We got to stop this,” Nick said.

Hank however was the one to put a hand on his shoulder. “Give her a chance. You'll blow her cover.” He looked at Sloane. “She can handle this?”

“Yeah, she should. Nuckelavee are strong but their more dangerous to plant life. They have this breath that can wilt plants because they like to eat rotten food. Could still make her sick but I doubt she’d use that here. They are pretty ruthless though…”

As she was talking, Trubel growled and slammed her gloved hand to the ring in frustration. Standing, she turned and squared up again. The other girl and Kingston both were surprised but she turned to fight again. Trubel tightened her guard rather than rushing in this time and when watched her carefully. When the Nuckelavee rushed her, she managed dodged her punches with quick steps Sloane had taught her. Less movement, less energy expended that she could use later. When she swung wide, Trubel stepped in and brought her heel down on her opponent’s instep. She shouted and then Trubel moved in under her guard and brought her elbow into her sternum from the side. Dodging another strike, she struck her into the ropes and Trubel didn’t give her an opening as she started a series of punches and jabs, ending in an uppercut that sent her sprawling this time against the red corner. She laid panting while Trubel pulled off her gloves and undid her helmet.

“That’s my girl,” Sloane muttered proudly, sharing smiles with Hank and Nick. Nick couldn’t deny being proud as well.

Kingston had pulled himself up by the ropes, focusing on Trubel. “You fight dirty.”

Trubel was panting but looked chastised. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“Yeah, I like dirty,” Kingston said with a devilish grin. “You got a lot of potential, kid. Abe is gonna start training you full time tomorrow. Now, you go get a shower. We'll talk after.”

Trubel was surprised but nodded, getting out of the ring as Nick and the others came around the side. She glanced at them, but quickly glanced away as she headed to the locker rooms so as not to blow her cover.

Kingston saw them as well and looked aggravated before stalling Abe and speaking quietly. Sloane managed to pick it up though despite the background noise. “Keep Clay in the dressing room while I deal with this.”

She frowned but didn’t have time to mention it to Nick or Hank before he turned around and smiled at them. “Keep showing up, you're gonna have to pay gym fees.”

“A few more questions,” Nick said placatingly.

“Oh, I need to get my boy ready for a fight.”

Hank was surprised. “So soon?”

“Hey, I line them up. He knocks them out,” Kingston chuckled. “That's how you make a name for yourself. What do you want?”

“Bobby Moore called you at 3 P.M. yesterday,” Nick said. “Call lasted 23 seconds. What did you two talk about?”

Kingston rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he was looking for more work. Thought he could pick up a few bucks at tonight's fight.”

“And you just forgot to mention that this morning?” Hank asked.

He sneered back at him. “I got more on my plate than worrying about a drunk has-been.”

“Wow, harsh,” Sloane said.

“It’s a harsh world, sweetheart,” he said snidely.

Sloane narrowed her eyes slightly. “I work homicide and take down guys bigger than you for a living. I’m well aware, _sweetheart_.” He glared back at her, but he wasn’t stupid enough to press his luck.

Even so, Nick quickly set a hand on her upper back, a sign to cool it. She felt all her nerves shudder and frowned at herself and then him.

“Back to Bobby,” Hank said, “he say where we was?”

“No, and I didn't ask.”

“Where were you last night?” Nick asked.

“Aw, come on, guys,” he said, getting frustrated. “I've been through this before.”

“Answer the question,” Hank ordered.

He glared and then dramatically raised his hands. “Treated Abe and myself to a fat, juicy steak and a bottle of wine at Ringside. The restaurant, not the gym. Check if you like.”

“We will,” Sloane promised. Kingston glared and turned to head off, obviously frustrated.

They headed back out to their car since there wasn’t much else to gather at the gym—but just before they pulled out Trubel rushed out and quickly ran to their car and got in next to Sloane. “Stan’s wesen. Abe too, but a different kind. I saw them arguing and they woged.”

“You get a good look at them?” Nick asked quickly.

“Oh, yeah, just get me to the trailer.” They nodded, quickly heading out before anyone saw her with them.

\-----------------------------

Adalind rested against the cold stone wall of the cell. The last few days had been hell but on the bright side she wasn’t feeling sick to her stomach anymore. And no more blinding headaches—though that she knew must be a side effect of her spell because she saw Juliette and an officer in a vision. Through Nick’s eyes. _God, I’m not becoming a Grimm I hope—this isn’t what I meant when I was stealing his sight! _Worse still was the knowledge it had all been for nothing. Diana wasn’t with Viktor, no one knew where she was now. She’d cried a lot ever time she thought about it but now it just made it hard to breath and her eyes ache. The gruel tasted awful and she ate it out of desperation, but it wasn’t giving her any strength. That was likely the point.

She vaguely heard stone moving and cringed. This was the other annoying part of this hole. The stupid voice laughing at her. She didn’t care anymore. She didn’t care about anything anymore.

“If I could show you how to get out of here, would you be happy?” the voice asked. It still sounded a bit too giddy, but it was more sincere.

Adalind blinked and perked up for the first time in hours. “Do you know a way out?” she asked, trying not to sound as desperate as she was.

He chuckled and it gave her a bad feeling. “Oh, I do. Six stones in, three stones high,” he sang.

“Six stones in, three stones high…? What does that mean?”

“Six stones in, three stones high,” he said again, laughing.

Adalind looked at the hole and then up and around before her eyes fell on the stone wall at her back. Turning, she counted from the hole where his eye was looking in on her. “Six stones in, three stones high...”

“Through the wall you must try,” he laughed.

Adalind looked at the large brick twice as wide as she was and as long as her torso. Normally she’d say it was impossible for her to move such a thing but had to try it. Placing her hands flat against the stone surface, she grunted and gasped as it pushed in smoothly. The grinding noise felt impossibly loud, but she got the stone all the way out till it dropped to the ground with a solid thud. Heart pounding, she quickly moved through the gap to the other side. It wasn’t outside though, it appeared to be another room of some kind. It was dark and she couldn’t see much of anything around her. “Hello?” she called. She gasped when she heard stone scraping again and turned to see the brick had somehow slid itself back into place.

Another chuckle echoed in the room and with a flick of a match the candle was lit. A man with long, scraggly hair and an equally scraggly long beard looked up at her with a smile full of crooked teeth looked up at her gleefully. He was filthy, with a worn brown jacket over a soiled grey shirt and workman’s pants and shoes that were little more than scraps of leather tied around his feet. Most obvious was the one, milky-white eye that crinkled when he grinned.

“My name is Hofmann,” he said. “You want to find your baby?”

She hesitated but then nodded. “Yes…Yes. You know a way out? I've got to find her.” He chuckled more, standing with a gleeful smile. “Please, get me out of here.”

He nodded excitedly, like a child despite his age. “It's a treacherous journey. You will need your strength.” He turned and grabbed a tin on a nearby rocky outcropping behind him and opened it to show what looked like slices of brown bread. “Here. Eat this.”

“Oh, my God, you have food,” she gasped, grabbing up a slice. She bit into it and though it was simple, it was so delicious she had to close her eyes in relief. As she was eating, the sounds of dogs barking gave her pause.

“We must go. Hurry,” he said, packing his things into his jacket and pulling her by the shoulder. He hobbled over and struck another stone, which made a small part of the wall swing inward. “Now, stay close to me. You must move quickly. They will be after us.”

Adalind glanced back through the opening for a moment but then quickly pushed on after Hoffman.

\-----------------

“What about this?” Nick asked, pointing at a picture of a dickfelig in one of his books.

Trubel shook her head. “He didn't have that horn on his head, but just as ugly.” Nick nodded and turned the page and Trubel’s hand shot out to the picture. “That's it! That's him. That's Stan.”

“You're sure,” he asked. Sloane came over to look as well, leaning over his shoulder.

“100%.”

“Hmmm…looks familiar but I don’t think I’ve met one in person,” Sloane said.

Nick browsed over the page, muttering the highlights. “"I witnessed this type of creature intimidating others around”… “This beast cannot be trusted”… Okay, here we are: “"Schinderdiv use their brutal force to pin their victim, and razor-sharp tusks to inflict damage.”” He pointed to a picture of a man with four puncture wounds, two large wide apart and two smaller a little further in and an inch down, and the photo he had of Bobby Moore’s body. “Same type of puncture wounds.”

“I think I found the other one Sloane mentioned,” Hank said, turning the book around. “A Heftigauroch is a bull-like wesen that morphs into rage when provoked."”

“Seriously? We're talking raging Heftigauroch,” Nick said, looking at the pictures of the bull-like wesen fighting a group of men.

“It's your book, man.”

“That's Abe, only he looks a lot older than that,” Trubel said.

“It’s Clay too…” Sloane said, curiously.

“"Their hard heads and strong hands make them great fighters. However, despite their inherent ability, it is not in their nature to fight."”

“So, they inherit this great ability, but they don't want to use it…” Nick said, turning thoughtful. Sloane glanced at him and he looked back down quickly.

“That makes sense that Clay’s that kind of wesen,” Trubel nodded. “He doesn't even like boxing.”

“They must do something to get him ready for a fight then,” Sloane said thoughtfully.

Nick’s phone rang and he quickly picked it up. “Burkhardt. …What?” he asked in shock. He listened to them again and then put the phone away. “They found a body a few blocks away from the gym. It's Abe Tucker.” They were all shocked for a second before quickly getting their jackets on to head out to the car. “What's the exact location?”

Trubel paused to look at the book with the Heftigaurach again, thinking over the idea of them usually being a peace-loving bunch. Clay had been very nice to her--even though Stan got after him for it. He didn't even like fighting. Then again, you did what you had to for money sometimes she knew...

“Trubel, come on,” Sloane called. She sighed and turned to quickly follow.

They got to the scene, which was the alley to the side of an old apartment building. Nick told Trubel to wait by the car while they walked over through the crime techs gathering evidence. Abe Tucker was lying on a block of upturned concrete with rebar jutting out, the rebar piercing his body.

“Looks like an apparent suicide,” the officer on scene said. “Jumped from the roof.”

Hank looked up at the near 10 story building and grimaced. “It's quite a jump.” He walked over and frowned more seeing the four holes on his sternum besides the rebar in his heart. “He’s got more holes than rebar in him.”

“Holes that look kind of familiar,” Nick agreed.

Sloane was kneeling by the body to look it over an pulled a piece of paper out his pocket. “Got a note.”

“What kind?”

“"I killed Bobby Moore. I'm sorry,”” she read aloud. She flipped it over dubiously.

“He's short and to the point,” Hank scoffed. None of them believed the note was his from the looks on their faces.

“You think Stan was having steak with Abe this time?” Nick asked.

“Let's ask him.”

They quickly headed back to the car and drove for the gym, parking a street over and getting out to head to the back. They split up to go both ways to be safe, Sloane and Trubel one way and Nick and Hank the other. As they did, they saw three strong looking men armed with clubs and bats gathered in front of Kingston. Sloane glared a bit, having a feeling how Kingston was getting Clay to fight now. Working him up before a fight would get him to let go of his peaceful nature for sure. She put a hand out to stop Trubel, nodding to the boys coming up. They’d opted to let Nick and Hank work Kingston up a bit first themselves, if only to try and get him to woge.

“Hey, don't hold back,” he told them.

“Nobody's going inside,” Nick called out as they walked up.

“What are you... I got a fight,” Kingston said impatiently.

Nick pulled out his badge and held it up, savoring the wide-eyed gawks of the men. “Anyone who doesn't belong here should go.” The men dropped their clubs and quickly ran off, not wanting to be arrested.

Kingston glared at their retreating backs then back at them. “This is harassment!”

“You're not going anywhere either,” Hank said. “You killed Bobby and Abe.”

He sneered, adjusting his suit. “You must have some pretty good evidence to make a charge like that.”

“We do,” Hank nodded.

“You're wesen.”

Kingston paused but huffed a laugh. “Got no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh, yeah, you do,” Hank said.

“You're a schinderdiv,” Nick said.

He froze again and then with a growling huff he woged. His skin turned almost scaled in how leathery it was and his ears lengthened and flopped. Like a warthog, he grew two large tusks and two smaller just below like their curved teeth. He was staring between Hank and Nick but then relaxed a bit with a laugh. “You don't know anything.” So, it was a simple woge keirsheite wouldn’t see. Sloane nodded to Trubel and they stepped out.

“But we do,” Trubel said. He turned, still woged, to see them and backed up in shock. Trubel smirked. “That's right, dude. Grimms here.”

“You,” he growled, and rushed them. Sloane and Trubel broke apart and he moved for Sloane, but she brought her fist up to punch him in the throat. He coughed and staggered back but when Trubel tried to grab him he flipped her hard into the garage door with a loud metallic clang. Nick ran over and kicked him hard in the side to get him away from the two of them and get them space to work.

When Sloane rushed him again with Nick, he punched her hard enough across the face she saw stars and staggered while he flipped Nick. Apparently, he did more than just promote fights. Hank tried to get him and ended up tossed hard over to the dumpster. Growling, Sloane got her knife out and came in hot with an arching downward swipe. He barely got out of the way in time to only get a slash across the chest, but he roared at her and tried to barrel her down. She rolled out of the way and Nick tried to punch him when Kingston turned around. It didn’t do anything to phase him though and he tackled Nick, aiming to dig his tusks into his chest.

“Nick!” Sloane yelled, getting up to stab Kingston in the back. Before she could though, Trubel was already moving and grabbed him piggy-back style. He roared and stood up, trying to get her off as he moved around. Trubel held on for dear life, her hand wrapping around one of the bony tusks. She pulled, trying to keep him from hitting anyone else. But then there was a sickening _crack_ and he went down. Trubel stood up, confused and shaken. Hank and Nick got to their feet in the quiet and looked down as Kingston went back to looking human, albeit a very dead one.

“You broke his neck,” Hank said, catching his breath.

“It’s your Grimm strength…You still can’t control it all the way,” Sloane sighed.

Trubel looked up at them, shaking her head. “I-I didn't mean to kill him.”

Nick sighed and shook his head. “You didn't. I killed him.” She looked at him in confusion, but Sloane was nodding slowly. “He attacked officers of the law. You were not even here,” he said seriously.

Hank nodded, pulling out his phone. “Calling it in.”

Nick nodded and looked back at Trubel. “Tell Clay he doesn't have to fight.”

She hesitated, guilt playing on her face, but nodded and went for the door.

Nick was looking at Kingston with frustration on his face and Sloane frowned. “Nick? You okay?”

He shook his head. “No…I was next to useless in that fight.”

“No, you weren’t—”

“If you and Trubel hadn’t been here, I’d be dead,” he said. “I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong. But I…at least could hold my own once. I don’t know how long we can keep this up like this…”

Hank and Sloane didn’t say anything, but they couldn’t deny that things had been easier before.

“…You guys wait here, I’ll go make sure Trubel’s ok and gets out of here,” Sloane said. Nick nodded with a sigh and Hank was waiting on confirmation that more officers would be out soon. She headed inside and followed the signs to the locker rooms. She heard Trubel yelling from down the hall though and quickened her pace.

“Hey! Hey, stop it. Leave him alone. Clay, you don't have to fight. Stan's dead.”

Sloane sped to a run and got through the door just as Dolores Pittman woged.

“Grimms…two of them!” she said, her voice turning low and bellowing. Clay, who had been on the ground, woged as well and stood, grabbing the leg of a broken chair nearby similar to one Delores already had in her hand—had she been beating her son? It surprised Sloane but she figured they could discuss it more later.

“Kill them,” Delores growled. “Kill them before they kill us! Kill them!” She was cut off as clay struck her hard in the head, sending her sprawling. He was woged with rage, standing over his mother with the club looking ready to destroy her. Delores woged back to human in fear, staring up at him.

“No, Clay, don't,” Trubel said quickly.

“Put it down, Clay,” Sloane agreed. “Clay, put it down…This isn’t what you want, right?”

Clay’s eyes slowly cleared of the anger, looking instead as shocked and scared as his mother. Unwoging, he looked at his hands and then turned to rest one on the padded rest next to him. Raising the club, he brought it down hard on his own arm.

“No!” Delores cried.

Clay didn’t listen, bringing it down again, and again, until there was a crack and he gritted his teeth against the pain. Looking down at her, tossed the bloodied club down at her feet. “I'm done.” It carried with it a finality that meant he was done with more than just the fights.

Delores knew that too and whispered tearfully. “No, Clay...Clay... no, Clay, wait.” She cried as he headed for the door. Sloane glanced at Delores, then at Trubel and turned to follow her following Clay.

“Tonight's main event is a forfeit,” an announcement came over the PA system. “Winner by default, Fists of Fury, Frankie Solanos.” Clay didn’t seem to care, cradling his arm as he walked the halls.

“…Hey,” Sloane said, catching up, He tensed, looking at her warily. “…You want a lift to the hospital?”

He blinked, glancing at the two of them. “…You’re Grimms…”

“Yeah. And I’m a cop. She’s…not, but it’s complicated. But I’m not interested in killing you as you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“…I hurt people…they used Bobby and the others to make me ready…My mom orchestrated all this…she didn’t care about anything except me winning…” he said bitterly.

“…We can talk more about that later. For now, Stan is dead because he attacked us and we’re pretty sure he killed Abe and Bobby. Not you. So, I’m offering you a lift to get that arm looked at. After that, you decide what you want to do.”

“…I don’t know…This is all I’ve focused on for so long,” he said, sounding lost. “I mean…I don’t have insurance or anything—”

“I will worry about that,” she sighed, gently setting a hand against his back. “But cops are going to be swarming this place real soon and I’d like to get Trubel out of here for reasons. So, doctor?”

He hesitated but nodded and let her lead him out. Nick and Hank looked up when they came out and gaped. “What happened?”

“Mom’s also a Heftigauroch, stuff happened, Clay’s arm is busted up and I want to take him to the hospital. Keys,” she ordered, holding out her hand.

They looked at each other but Hank shrugged and fished the keys out. “What about us?”

“I’ll be back, you get to deal with the other cops asking questions.”

“Why is it always us that gets to do that?” Nick asked.

“Because I’m smart enough to get out of here.” She gently nudged Trubel and Clay down the alleys to the car and got in the driver seat to head out.

“…You guys aren’t going to kill me?” Clay asked.

“I could ask why you came with us if you thought we might but let’s leave it at no,” she said, heading for the nearest hospital. “Look, I know what people say about us and for the most part it’s true, but we’re a bit more discretionary when it comes to wesen. Trubel said you were a good guy, I believe her.”

He looked at Trubel and she blushed a bit and shrugged. “You were nice to me yesterday…I didn’t think you were the killer.”

“…So, I didn’t kill Bobby?” he clarified.

“You?” Sloane asked in surprise.

“I mean…Bobby was one of the guys Stan brought in to work me over, get me ready for the fight against Tyler. I thought maybe I hit him too hard and…”

She shook her head. “Bobby died from stab wounds. Likely by Stan given the layout.”

Clay bit his lip and looked down at his arm. “…Did Abe know?”

“…I think so. But I also think, from what Trubel overheard, he wasn’t happy with it. He wanted to come clean. And Stan killed him for that too.”

“He’s really dead?” he asked a bit more quietly.

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” Sloane said. She felt for this kid really. His whole world messed up in one night.

“…What do I do now?”

Trubel looked at him. “Whatever you want, really. I mean, you could be a cop?”

“Oh, noooo,” Sloane shook her head. “I mean, good guys as cops would be great. But if he would prefer not having to hit people and fight, and that’s probably what everyone wants, not the best idea.”

“Ah…right,” she said, blushing at the slip.

“I don’t have enough for college or anything…I was never all that good…” Clay said, looking down.

“…Listen, a lot has happened tonight. What I’d recommend is get your arm looked at, then we can drive you to get your stuff and check you into a motel. Try to rest and just…think about what you do like. I mean this day and age, you can probably spin anything into a job. Find something to do in the meantime if you have to, but just try and remember none of this is your fault. It’s because of a bunch of adults trying to use you in one way or another.”

“Including my mom…” he muttered.

“Yeah, but hey, parents are like that sometimes,” she sighed. “I've learned despite what they say, you can pick your family."

Clay didn’t say more, just stared out the window as they drove and Trubel sighed.

\-----------------

In the end Clay’s arm was broken and they had to cast it. Sloane paid the bill and Clay swore up and down he’d repay her somehow. She just told him to figure out his life first. They could find nothing to tie Delores to the murders, but the fact Clay now wanted nothing to do with her wasn’t surprising. While she was held for questioning, they helped him get his stuff and to a motel like they promised—he had enough for a few days. Sloane gave him her card and told him to let her know if she could help, and Trubel’s number was scrawled on the back. She didn’t know if or when he might use them, but she didn’t feel right letting him not have some sort of safety net.

It was late by the time they got Nick and Hank to take them home, but they approved of what they did. When Sloane and Trubel got home they both went to bed exhausted.

In the morning Sloane got up to make breakfast, yawning but awake. “Trubel, breakfast is almost ready.” She didn’t hear an answer and paused. “Trubel?” Still nothing. She finished the eggs and plated them before heading to the door. “Hey, you up?” She knocked and didn’t hear anything. Frowning, she opened the door and peeked in. She opened the door wider when she saw the bed was made and all of Trubel’s things were gone, except for the black knight chess piece resting on the desk in the corner. She knew she wouldn’t just leave that. But that she wouldn’t just take off suddenly either.

Going to her room, she grabbed her phone and dialed Trubel’s number. When she didn’t pick up, she growled but then dialed Nick.

“Sloane? Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, Nick…Is Trubel with you?” she asked hopefully.

“What? Uh, no, she’s not. Why?”

“Because I came to get her for breakfast and her room is empty. Even her bag is gone.”

“She’s gone? Where?”

“I don’t know! She’s just gone…” She tried not to sound as hurt as she felt.

“Okay, well…Your cars there, right? She couldn’t have gone far.”

“Unless she called a cab…Hold on.” She went back out and to the garage, looking in. “Juliette’s bike isn’t here so she must’ve taken that.”

“Okay, but where too then?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think she’d go over to the shop or Monroe and Rosalee’s without us…”

He hummed in thought. “Well…what about the trailer? She likes it there.”

“The trailer? That’d be like two hours or more by bike!”

“Well, she’s determined, remember? Maybe she wanted to look something up?

“And take all her stuff?” She sighed, dropping the defensive tone. “It’s not a bad idea though. I’ll go check.”

“I’ll come too. I can pick you up on the way.”

“Okay…thanks.”

“See you in a bit.” 

They hanged up and Sloane quickly ate and changed before Nick got there. She got out and jumped in his car when he arrived and sighed. “I really hope you’re right; she’s not answering my calls still…”

“Or mine,” he said, sounding tense as well. “You two didn’t have a fight?”

“No,” she said defensively.

“Hey, I don’t mean anything by it. People living together have fights, it happens.”

“Well we didn’t. We get along pretty well…”

“You don’t sound sure,” he asked carefully.

Sloane looked at her phone then sighed. “She was talking about going out on her own one day…”

“Oh…And…you think she is?” he asked, unsure what to think of that.

“I don’t know. I hoped she’d at least give me a heads up…”

“…You mentioned once your mentor just up and left one day,” he said, trying to sound casual.

Sloane gave him jaded look. “Don’t go trying to analyze me, detective.”

Nick held up a hand. “I’m just saying, I can get why this would hurt. For you especially, but it’d hurt anyone I’m sure.”

“I wasn’t hurt when Dierdre left,” Sloane said, folding her arms. “I was 18, out of school and it was time. It’s what I expected.”

“Well aren’t you reminding me that Trubel isn’t a kid? She’s over 20.”

“But she hasn’t been training for 9 years,” she pointed out.

“…You plan on her being with you that long?”

“Yes…no…” she sighed and threw up her hands. “I don’t’ know, okay? I just don’t like waking up and she’s gone because…”

“Because…?”

“…It’s a crappy thing to do to someone…” she muttered.

Nick left it at that. He knew there was a lot that this Dierdre person had done to her that Sloane didn’t want to examine too closely, and he didn’t want to push her too hard at once.

They got to the trailer and Nick unlocked it. Inside they saw Trubel’s bag on the desk and they both let out a breath of relief. “Well…there’s her bag at least.”

Sloane nodded, going over to pat it. “But where’s the owner?”

Nick wasn’t sure either but set a hand on Sloane’s shoulder. When the door suddenly opened, they both whirled, ready to fight, only to see Trubel rush in. “Don't do that,” Nick snapped.

Trubel huffed a bit through catching her breath. “I had to make sure you weren't followed.”

“You don't think we know what we’re doing?”

“Easy,” Sloane said quietly. Nick took a breath to try and calm himself.

“Yeah, you don't know everything,” Trubel said. Both of them looked at her impatiently and she sighed, trying to calm down as well. “That's why I'm here. I didn't tell you something.”

“That you were leaving?” Sloane asked, folding her arms again in disapproval.

“That's why I left my black knight, so you'd know I was here. I was trying to be safe.” They both frowned at her in confusion and she collected her thoughts quickly. “You know that FBI agent, I think her name's Chavez? She's wesen.”

Sloane and Nick glanced at each other in surprise, then at her. “You saw her woge?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, when she kidnapped me,” she said with an annoyed huff.

“What?!” Sloane said, her protective instincts rising.

“What are you talking about?” Nick asked, unsure he even heard her right.

“I wasn't supposed to tell anybody,” she said ruefully. “It was sort of like a threat against me and you, which is why I'm here.”

Nick still looked confused and lost. “Why would the FBI want to kidnap you?”

“No, she said it had nothing to do with the FBI. There were three guys with her. They grabbed me off the street when I was riding Juliette's bike, put a bag over my head, and took me to some old warehouse, and then she woged right in my face. She wanted to see if I was a Grimm!” she said, getting more worked up. Nick was shocked but didn’t look like he thought she was lying. Pieces were coming to place in his head. “Did she come and see you?”

Nick nodded slowly, “Yeah, she did…She said it was just between the two of us. But she was very interested in you.”

“Well I’m feeling left out,” Sloane said, nostrils flaring and hands going to her hips as she moved agitatedly. “Maybe I should go pay her a visit and ask here where the hell she gets off—”

“Easy, Sloane,” he said quickly. “She didn’t ask about you, so I don’t think she’s aware you’re a Grimm. Or if she is, she hasn’t talked to you yet.”

“I’ll make her aware! Painfully aware!”

“Maybe don’t,” he said, a question that wasn’t quite a question. “It might be to our advantage she doesn’t know about you yet. If she tries to get you alone, don’t go if you don’t have to.” Sloane growled in her throat but huffed and didn’t argue. Nick looked back at Trubel, worried. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing! I mean, I told her you weren’t wesen when she asked, just that you were my “cousin”, but we were pretty distantly related,” she said, looking at Sloane. “I didn’t want her to kidnap you too. But then she said there were people that were very interested in my services, said that being able to identify and destroy wesen influence in society was, like, a very valuable gift.”

“A wesen said that?” Sloane asked, arching her brow.

“Yeah. She wanted me to be a part of some group. And she told me to think about it and not to tell anyone, otherwise...They'd, you know, have to kill us or whatever.”

“I’d like to see them try…But wait, what group?”

“Yeah, she didn't say anything else about who this group was or where they were?” Nick asked.

“No, she just said she'd be in contact with me. I was hoping you'd know who they were.”

Nick shook his head. “I have no idea…Sloane?”

She frowned, thinking. “…The last I knew of, with Grimms and Wesen working together officially, was Aegis. The organization my grandmother worked with in World War II.”

“Is it still going?” he asked hopefully.

“If it is, I’ve never come across it. But according to my grandmother’s journal, they disbanded at the end of the war. So, I can’t say for sure, and even so, I don’t think I’d trust them without knowing them. 70 years is a long time for things to change.”

Nick nodded, seeing her point. “Yeah…”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” Trubel said honestly. “I was afraid they'd hurt you guys, and Juliette.”

Nick sighed and looked at Trubel. “I think you should come back home.”

“Nick...” she said, shaking her head.

He reached out and set a hand on her shoulder, looking at her seriously. “If they find out that you just suddenly left, they might think that you told Sloane or me. We need to remain very close, at least until we can figure out who Chavez is and what it is we're dealing with.” Sloane smiled a bit at him and Trubel sighed but nodded slowly. “Now, if she contacts you again...”

“Trust me, I'm telling you. Both of you.”

“Good,” Sloane said, feeling relieved.

\---------------

Later that afternoon they got a call and coordinated to the scene in what looked like a relatively nice neighborhood. What might bring down the property values was the dead man in front of one house, covered head to toe in what looked like red clay.

“What do we got?” Hank asked, looking at the scene dubiously.

“Nothing but fun and games, and by that, I mean I don't know what the hell we're dealing with, as usual,” Wu said, lifting the crime scene tape so they could all duck underneath. “Victim's name is Keith Harrow.”

“Who found the body?” Nick asked, going over to look at it out of duty and a hint of morbid curiosity as they pulled on their gloves.

“That would be me,” Wu sighed. “Woman who lives here, Sara Fisher, was signed in at Treeview hospital last night. Hospital made the domestic abuse call. Ms. Fisher has a restraining order, which the vic didn't pay much attention to. In retrospect, he should have. I knew to hint you guys should handle it,” he added quietly.

Nick looked over the man carefully, grimacing. “Looks like there's something coming out of every orifice…”

“Great way to put it,” Sloane said, lip curling in disgust.

“It’s clay, I think,” the crime tech said. She was getting a sample into a jar. “My guess is ultisol, judging by the reddish color.”

“Ultisol?” she asked in confusion.

“It’s a reddish, clay like soil found in warm, humid climates. Not exactly native to the northwest,” she clarified. She packed up her sample and went to go assist with the next steps.

“I've heard of Russian mob guys pouring cement down an informant's throat, but Clay's a first,” Hank said.

“Where would they get it all?” Nick asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Maybe they brought a cement mixer...” Wu said. Nick looked up at him with a new expression of disbelief and Wu shrugged. “With a lot of clay in it. That’s the most normal explanation I can come up with. What’s yours?”

Sloane opened her mouth, but they were interrupted by a commotion on the other side of the tape.

“What's going on? Keith!?” a man yelled, trying to get over the crime scene tape. Like the body he was wearing a flannel shirt over a muscle tank and jeans and had a bit of stubble around his face.

“Hey, sir, you can't come out here!” Wu shouted, going over to quickly stop him.

“That's my brother! What happened?” he demanded.

The detectives rose to get there. “Hey. We got it, Wu,” Hank said. Wu sighed but backed off. “What's your name?”

“Nate Harrow,” he grunted, adjusting his clothes with an annoyed look at Wu.

“Your brother's body was discovered by one of our officers in response to a domestic abuse call,” Nick said.

Nate’s jaw dropped “Oh, my God…He's dead?” He looked around them, trying to confirm.

“Yes.”

“I don't believe it…”

“This is an active crime scene, sir,” Hank said.

“My brother was murdered?” he asked, getting angrier now.

“We can’t confirm that till we’ve had an autopsy,” Sloane said.

“Was he shot? Stabbed?” He tried to look at the body around them again. “What's that all over his body? Who did this?”

Hank held up a hand to try and get him to slow down. “Did you know your brother had a restraining order against him being on this property?”

He huffed and then looked around. “Where's Sara?” he moved as if to go to the house, but Hank got in front of him, holding the hand firmly on his chest now.

“Answer my question,” he said seriously.

He glared but nodded. “Yeah, I knew. He tried calling me last night, but I didn't get the message till this morning. But I could tell he was messed up. He said he was coming over here. If anybody killed him, it was Sara. His ex-wife. She hated him. Keith wasn't no Saint, but he was trying to get his life together. She either did this or hired somebody to.”

They all shared a look before nodding to another officer. “Sir, this officer's gonna take down your information. We'll call you when we know more.,” Hank said. He didn’t look happy but followed the officer as he was led away.

“Getting his life together? Haven’t heard that before,” Sloane said snidely under her breath.

“There's no way his wife was strong enough to do that to him unless she's wesen,” Hank said quietly.

“Yeah, what kind of wesen would use Clay to kill somebody?” Nick looked at her and Sloane shrugged helplessly.

“No idea. For all I know, Wu’s cement mixer idea might be right.”

“I think we need to talk to her,” Hank sighed.

\----------------

Nick knocked on the door of the hospital even though it was somewhat open. “Sara Fisher?”

A rather tired, frail looking woman with reddish brown hair looked up from where she was sitting in the hospital bed. “Yes?”

“I'm Detective Burkhardt. These are my partners, Detective Griffin and Detective Larson. We've just come from your home,” he said gently.

“This about Keith?” the man sitting by her bed asked.

“Your name, sir?” Hank asked.

“Oh, I'm Ben Fisher,” he said, standing and offering his hand. “I'm Sara's brother. Did... did you arrest Keith?”

They shook his hand but paused and looked over to see there was also a young boy of about 9 at a table, playing with a monster doll but looking at them with wide eyes. He had fair hair and eyes and a cast around his wrist.

“This your son?” Hank asked slowly.

“Yes, that's David.”

“It's probably best if David waits outside with Sloane while we speak with you and your brother.”

Sloane blinked and then looked at him. “Best he waits with _whom_?” she asked without moving her lips much.

Nick huffed but leaned in to whisper in her ear as he turned her around. Sloane desperately tried to ignore her heart speeding up as he did. “I don’t think he’s going to want to be alone with a man right now. Please.”

“I thought I was here to see if his mother is…” she held up her hand with three fingers as a W, their quick wesen sign.

“Sloane, please,” he said sincerely. “Just sit in view. It might be easier that way.”

Sloane glared but then sighed and turned. The boy was looking at her uncertainly and she looked probably equally unsure back. “Hey, David…I’m Sloane Larson.”

He nodded a little but didn’t say anything.

“David, can you go outside with Sloane while your Uncle and I talk to these men?” Sarah asked.

He didn’t look like he wanted too but Sloane walked over. “It’s okay. It’s just grown-up stuff.”

“Please, David,” his mother asked, similar to how Nick had pleaded with Sloane.

He sighed, grabbing his two action figures and standing. “Okay…”

Sloane awkwardly set her hand on his shoulder and guided him out to a table with a sight-line into the room. “Let's go right here.” She sat down facing the room while he sat down with her. She could vaguely make out what they were saying with a tiny bit of enhanced hearing, but she was focusing on Sara’s form to see if she shifted at all. She was distraught when Nick delivered the news but didn’t change from what she could see. Glancing back at David, she frowned a bit as he play battled with his action figures as best he could with a cast around one hand.

“How'd you hurt your wrist?” she asked curiously, as if making conversation

He hesitated, glancing at her and then back at the action figures. One was a man in a long coat and the other a large, ugly monster with nasty claws that looked like something she’d hunt. “I fell.”

A dim alarm went off in her head. Growing up, she’d get hurt in training now and then. Broken arms, cuts, bruises. Dierdre didn’t always hold back. Her excuses were varied, but “I fell” was in there pretty often. “…Does it still hurt?”

He shrugged. He had the monster knock the man down and then moved as if it was clawing him up.

“Monster kind of going to town there…your guy there better fight back or the monster will win.”

“He always wins,” David said quietly.

Sloane blinked and looked at the kid more closely. “…The monster always wins? Is he the hero?”

“No. He’s the monster,” he said, as if that was obvious.

“Just checking. My toys didn’t always stay in the same roles as a kid…” That was an odd sudden wave of nostalgia. “But I usually had the good guys win.”

“That’s just stories. They don’t win in real life…”

Sloane watched him and then picked up the figure of the man in the coat. “Have you seen the monsters win?” He looked up at her and then down at the monster figure before humming a yes. “Did the monster do that to you?” She was remembering the moment, as a 9-year-old herself, of being taken to a psychologist to talk about her grandmother’s death. How delicate they tried to be with her. David didn’t seem as delicate, but he was instead guarded. Like Trubel was, after spending years seeing something no one would believe.

“Yeah,” David said quietly.

“Was it your dad?”

“My stepdad,” he clarified. He looked up at her more clearly. “When he gets mad, the monster comes out.”

“…Like he seems to change? Like something inside comes out?” He nodded slowly. “What did he look like?”

“Real bad and scary.”

Sloane sighed. “A lot of monsters look like that…” She watched him again before tapping the monster figure with her finger. “When I was your age, I started seeing monsters. A lot of them.”

“…Really?”

“Yeah. They hurt someone I loved. My grandmother. They wanted to hurt me too, but she saved me…I hated feeling helpless and like I couldn’t do anything.”

“…Did your grandma win?”

Sloane tightened her grip a little on the hero doll and sighed. “No…that time you’re right, the monsters did win. And I lost her.”

“…I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Sloane looked at him and then tapped the monster again. “I’ve seen a lot of others too though. Big ones, hairy ones, sharp teeth and claws. And there’s one I met, you know what the worst thing about him was?”

“What?” he asked, looking worried.

“He looked like a giant booger,” she said with the upmost seriousness. David stared before he giggled despite himself. “I’m serious! He was all green and slimy! Like a big ol’ loogie, just walking and jiggling around. And he smelled like sweaty socks boiled in cabbage water!”

“Ew!” he laughed. He calmed and then looked at her more seriously. “Did they hurt you? The ones you met after?”

Sloane hesitated. How much does she divulge here? She didn’t want to scar the kid, but she didn’t want to sugar-coat it either. “Some do. Most tried.”

“What did you do?

“I got stronger,” she said honestly. “I learned how to fight back.”

“Did you kill any of them?”

“…Yes,” she said.

“How?” he asked almost eagerly.

She knew she couldn’t go over lethal methods, weak points and the like. David wasn’t Grimm she was sure, he didn’t need to know this at his age. “That's a secret."

"But--"

"Sorry, but it really is a secret," she said. "But you know what's important? Believing I was stronger than them.” She stood the hero doll up. “When you believe you can stand up to them and kill them, they don’t know what to do sometimes. And when you have something to fight for—whether it’s that belief or a person or a hope that…no one else has to go through what you did, you get a lot stronger.”

“Is that why you became a cop?” he asked.

“…Part of it, yeah. And I’m betting you’re stronger than you think.” She smiled a bit. “You might need a little training, but one day you’ll be able to stand up to them. Get brave, get strong, the monsters will know who to fear, right?” She moved so that the hero hit the monster and he went down.

David smiled a bit and hummed.

Nick came out then. “We're done.”

“Okay.” Sloane stood.

“Bye, Sloane,” David said.

She smiled a bit, handing the action figure back to him. “Bye, David…Here.” She pulled out a card. “You see anymore monsters, call me, okay? Something else I learned: Every hero can use back up.”

David smiled and nodded, putting the card in his pocket.

Nick was surprised as she straightened. “I…honestly didn’t know you were good with kids.”

“I’m not,” Sloane said. “But I had some common ground…”

“Anything from Sara?” Hank asked.

“No woge, but David said, when his stepdad gets mad, he turns into a monster.”

“Oh, that’ common ground.”

“So vic is a wesen,” Nick sighed.

“Too late to figure out what kind. You think Sara knows?” Hank pressed the button for the elevator.

“I'm not sure I know how to ask that question right now…If she saw something, she might just think she's crazy.”

“I hear that,” Hank sighed.

“But if David's stepdad was wesen, what killed him?”

“That’s what we need to figure out,” Sloane said, getting into the elevator with them. “Let’s get Trubel, the more eyes the better.”

Nick nodded and they headed out, swinging by to grab Trubel and fill her in on the way. “So…this kid’s stepdad was hurting him?” Trubel asked as they pulled up to the trailer.

“Yeah…and his mom,” Hank sighed. “She did say he was threatening them even more too last night. Sounded like he might’ve been dangerous.”

“…I’m not sorry he’s dead,” she said definitively.

“I agree it’s not a huge loss,” Nick said. “But we need to make sure that if whatever did this is a wesen, it’s not going to kill more people. We don’t know if it targeted Keith or if it was just luck of the draw for him.”

“Or if it was targeting David and Sara,” Sloane pointed out.

“That too,” he agreed.

They got inside the trailer and started pulling books, flipping and browsing for any lead. They were there for almost an hour in silence with only the pages of books turning before Trubel spoke up. “You ever wonder how many Grimms there are in the world?”

“Occasionally,” Nick nodded, glancing at Sloane.

“…I know of about 10 that may or may not be alive,” Sloane said, counting in her head. “That includes Kelly. But I know she’s alive,” she looked at Nick. “She texted me the other day. She and Diana are in Colorado for a bit.”

Nick smiled and nodded. He appreciated the update even if she couldn’t go into exact specifics.

“That still doesn’t seem like enough…” She glanced at Nick as well, her gaze more worried.

Nick either didn’t notice or didn’t deign to respond. “Well, I'M not finding anything with clay as its M.O.,” he sighed, flopping back in the chair near the desk.

“Maybe what killed him wasn't wesen,” Hank said. “Like the Volcanalis or that ghost lady.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” Trubel said, sitting up straighter on the bed. “You're saying there's more than just wesen?”

“I’m afraid so,” Sloane sighed. “I still don’t know what that Volcanalis is technically, and I don’t believe in ghosts—”

“You weren’t there,” Nick said. This was a familiar argument ever since he told her about the La Llorna incident.

She rolled her eyes at Nick. “But I know there are other things in the world. Things even we don’t want to mess with…”

“Oh, great,” Trubel said with a groan. “Just when I was getting a handle on this. Perfect.”

Hank’s phone rang and he moved to grab it out of his pocket. “Detective Griffin…Mr. Fisher?” He listened and then stood, looking shocked. “Where are you?...Okay, stay there. We'll come over.” He hanged up and looked at them. “That was Sara's brother, Ben. He's interested in confessing to the murder of Keith Harrow.”

Nick was taken aback, and he looked at an equally surprised Sloane.

But what surprised her more was where they ended up. The building was old white stone with a couple of lion gargoyles on the front surrounding the stain glass window. It wasn’t a charge however—the glass was a beautiful depiction of a menorah in blues and greens with red and orange flames. Jewish scripts were engraved beneath the window and between the lions. On either of the front was towers made of red brick with white stone and tops, and the main part of the temple was in a similar style with domed tops in weathered brick. “This is…”

“Temple Beth Israel,” Hank said. He paused and looked back. “…You okay?”

“Yeah, just…” She felt strangely body-less looking at the building. Like she was free floating without a tether. They didn’t have a temple in Wildred growing up—what part of her Jewish heritage she really knew had been taught to her by her grandmother. And then had been put by the wayside like so much else from then when Dierdre came for her. Standing in front of it made her feel…small. And like somehow, she was a liar. Could she call herself Jewish if she wasn’t sure what she believed? “I’m okay,” she said, shaking herself. She walked in with them and was surprised again how beautiful it was on the inside—warm wooden benches leading up to the podium at the front of the room. Behind the podium was the Torah Ark—_What was the word? What was it?_ —and the chairs and tables for the Rabbis to use at worship.

“Mr. Fisher?” Nick called. Ben was sitting in one of the seats to pray and they noted he had a yarmulke on his head. He looked up and then rose with a sigh.

“Thank you for coming…”

“Not every day someone wants to confess,” Hank said, though he looked like he wasn’t sure what he was doing exactly.

“You killed Keith Harrow?” Nick asked.

“I did,” he said. His conviction was unwavering and though he looked somewhat guilty he also looked resigned.

“Want to tell us how?”

He nodded but then hesitated. “There's something I need to show you, in my study. Please, this way.” He gestured and then started for the back of the synagogue.

“You're a Rabbi here?” Sloane asked.

“For ten years. I was a grad student in linguistics. My thesis was translating ancient Kabbalistic texts. Eventually, I read myself into a new calling,” he said with a wistful smile. “What I'm about to tell you will be hard for you to understand, let alone believe.”

“Try us,” Nick said wryly.

He clapped his hands and rubbed them in anticipation. “All right.” Going through, he led them to a homey study in the back with many bookcases, glass cases and a fine desk. It was elegant but reserved and it reminded Sloane of a library in some of the old colleges she’d visited abroad. Ben went over to open one of the glass cases, pulling out something protected by a black velvet bag. “In the 16th century, several rabbinical sources recorded Rabbi Yehuda Loew, the Maharal of Prague, raising a golem from Clay, using this scroll.”

“Whoa, hold on,” Sloane said, jolting a bit. “A Golem? _The _Golem? From the Vitava river?”

He was surprised as he set the scroll down. “You know the story?”

“…My grandmother told it to me, when I was young. She said part of our family were in Prague at that time. A protector, made of clay from the river.”

“Yes, exactly! It's an anthropomorphic creature that's supposed to protect its people from the holy Roman emperor, Rudolf II, only it proved too dangerous to wield.”

“Yeah, that’s about what she said too…”

“Now, the remains of the golem were supposed to be kept in the attic of the Alt-Neu Shul in Prague, the synagogue, but...” He went back over to the case and pulled out a ceramic jar, white with blue scrollwork painted on it, and treated it like he was hold a bomb. “The remains were reported missing in 1984 when a documentary film crew went looking for it.”

Sloane bit her tongue at that but was looking at the jar with a hard expression.

“Are you telling us that this jar contained the remains of a golem?” Nick asked, trying to keep calm.

“Well, I didn't really think so,” he said quickly. “The rabbi before me, Meisel, he brought it over with several other artifacts when he emigrated from Moravia. I didn't think it would do anything, but I was desperate, so I prayed. I prayed because I was so angry,” he said, trying to control his voice. “This man was destroying my family!”

“So, you read that scroll and called up a golem to kill Keith Harrow?” Hank asked.

“I did.”

“And you believe your prayers were answered,” Nick said.

“I know they were,” he said firmly.

Hank sighed and shook his head. “We appreciate you wanting to confess, but we can't arrest you for praying for someone to die.”

“Yeah, but I'm telling you the truth, and you don't believe me,” Ben said, disappointed but not surprised.

“Doesn't matter what we believe. It's what we can prove. Praying isn't a crime,” Nick said.

“I'm telling you, this is what happened,” he said stubbornly.

Hank set a hand on the jar and picked it up carefully. “We'll take the jar and test the residue. If it's the same Clay that killed Keith Harrow, our lab will verify it.”

“And if they do?” he asked urgently.

“We'll start believing,” Nick said.

\--------------------

“Residue from the jar matches the Clay at the crime scene,” Hank said, setting the papers down on Nick’s desk.

Nick was surprised but leaned back with a sigh. “So, we have a murder weapon.”

“All we need is a "how in the hell," and we got this one wrapped up.”

“And how do we arrest a golem?” he asked quizzically.

“Or Ben praying for one.”

“Can't wait to explain that to the D.A.,” he laughed. He looked over at Sloane and his smile dimmed a bit. She’d been rather pensive since they got back. “Hey, Sloane? You okay?”

She looked up and nodded. “Yeah, fine…”

“That was convincing,” Hank said.

She sighed, tapping her fingers on her desk before moving in closer. “My grandmother told me a lot about the golem as a kid. Though I realized later, our stories were a bit different than the usual ones.”

“How so?”

“Oma told me the story like this: The Rabbi created the Golem to protect his people because a someone was going around killing children and the Jews were being blamed. While it wasn't proved, people from their city were being assaulted by the other citizens and soldiers and some ended up dead. He built the Golem out of clay from the river and bound it to his will by saying a special prayer over the sculpture he made that brought him to life. He was meant to protect the Jews until the truth came out and help rebuild some of the destruction the panic had caused. However, when they were attacked again by a group of solders, the golem grew and grew and swept over the attackers, swallowing them in a wave of clay. A whole group of men wiped out. But, so too were some of the Jews, who tried to stop it because they didn’t want more deaths. When the Rabbi saw what had happened, he feared the Golem’s power and blamed himself for more death. He sought out a friend who was well versed in the strange powers of the world and together they figured out how to stop the golem and seal it away.”

“…That friend was a Grimm I’m guessing?” Hank said.

“Yeah, though she didn’t go into specifics then. I thought it was just a lesson on even the best intentions can make things worse…” She leaned back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “…I don’t even remember a lot of the Hebrew she taught me I’m pretty sure…” she said quietly.

Nick blinked and hesitated, wanting to say something. What could he say though? What do you say when someone realizes another part of their past is lost?

Hank was thinking similarly but he couldn’t help a smile when he saw who walked in. “Hey!” Cheers and applause erupted, and Nick and Sloane turned to see Renard walking in. Sloane was surprised he was on his feet so soon.

He smiled at them all, nodding and holding up his hand.

“Thank you. All right, thank you. Please. Thank you,” he laughed, nodding to everyone. “Well, you know, lying in a hospital bed really gives a man a chance to think,” he said, knowing they were waiting for him to say something. “These past few years, this precinct has basically been my home, and I-I just want you all to know how grateful I am to each and every one of you for all of your support, and it's great to be back.” They all cheered and clapped again, and he smiled. “Now, Reese, get out of my office.”

“With pleasure!” he shouted, quickly heading out as they all laughed.

Sloane eased back into work, trying to put her memories to the back of her head again. They weren’t working long it felt before an officer came over and told them they’d gotten an alert that Sara had called 911 because someone attacked them at her home again. They were out the door practically running to the car.

“What's the status?” Hank asked the moment he got out.

“Suspect is the brother-in-law of the victim, Sara Fisher,” the officer said. “She's inside with her brother and son.”

“What about the suspect?” Nick asked.

“Left the scene before we got here.”

“Smart,” Sloane growled under her breath as they headed inside.

“Sloane!” David said, getting up to go over to her. She was surprised when he hugged her and looked at Nick like a deer in the headlights. Nick smiled a little. Obviously, she hadn’t intended for David to get attached to her, but he did.

“Um…hey, David,” she said. She hesitantly reached down and patted his head.

“You want to tell us what happened?” Nick asked, looking at them all. They were all pretty shaken it seemed, though David was feeling better with Sloane there. Ben looked like he’d had the wind knocked out of him and Sara was motioning David to come back. He did and she held him close.

“Keith's brother Nate was here when we got home,” she said.

“He thinks we have something to do with Keith's death,” Ben said, glancing up at them.

“And he hit you?” Hank clarified.

“Yeah, that doesn't matter. He threatened Sara and David,” he said, looking at his sister and nephew with a shaky voice.

“Do you know where he lives?” Nick asked.

“Off Germantown road,” Sara said.

“In the woods?” Sloane said, not that surprised. She nodded.

“We're gonna leave officers here until we make sure that we've got him,” Hank promised.

“Okay, thank you,” she sighed.

“I should go with you, 'cause it's very remote,” Ben said, rising.

“Be out in a second,” Nick said. Sloane hanged back as well but it was Nick that sat down in the chair next to David on the couch with his mom. He cleared his throat and looked at him. “How you doing, David?”

David looked hesitant but said quietly. “He was mean, like my stepdad.” He looked at Sloane. “He had a monster in him too.”

Sloane squeezed her fists a little in anger. She knew it was likely Keith was wesen, and she’d had a feeling Nate might be as well. But she wasn’t sure what kind since they hadn’t woged. “We’ll have to do something about that then…”

Nick didn’t contradict her but tried to sound gentler. “Well, I want you to know that nobody should do that to you.”

He nodded a little and then looked at Sloane hopefully. “Can you stay, Sloane?”

She froze. “Uh…me?”

“Yeah. You see the monsters too.”

Sloane hesitated, looking at Nick who was looking back at her uncertainly. _That’s probably why I should go with Nick because he **can’t** see the monsters right now!_ Was what she wanted to say, but she knew that wouldn’t go over well. A year and a half ago she’d have tried to find any way out—Mainly because she’d have been on her own and the only option. But seeing David look up at her hopefully and with a bit of fear made her heart clench uncomfortably. “…Let me talk with Nick.” He nodded and she motioned for him to follow her to the front of the house. “Okay, how do I get out of this one, smart guy?” she hissed.

“Why are you asking me?” he said in confusion.

“Because you got me into this! You asked me to sit with him!”

“And he liked you, go figure,” he said blandly.

“Nick, I am not a babysitter!”

“It’s not like that, Sloane. His mom will be here. You’re more of a…bodyguard.”

“…That’s only moderately better,” she muttered. “Nick, this guy is some kind of wesen. I don’t like you going on your own.”

He frowned at her. “I’m not helpless, you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to dig at your machismo. I’m just saying, what if he’s something that takes you by surprise?”

“Then we’ll handle it,” he said evenly. “Look, David is scared. Whatever you said to him, he liked you.”

“I’m not good with kids!”

“Well apparently he disagrees.” She glared and Nick sighed. “Sloane, he’s scared. He thinks you fight monsters, which you do. I know this isn’t what you’d like to do, and I’d usually appreciate you coming along rather than Trubel if just because I still worry about her. But who knows if his uncle is still at that house, he might come back here. And we don’t know what the Golem might do. Having you here might be best in this case because David trusts you.”

“…I hate that you have a point. I hate it so much,” she sighed.

Nick just smiled and set a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just…do whatever you did this morning.”

“…I have no idea what that is either! I just…talked with him.”

“Then that’s enough.”

“Stop trying to sound wise and mature.”

“Stop whining then.”

Sloane screwed up face but finally sighed. “Okay, go then! Get Trubel to go with you to be safe.”

“Right, right,” he said he said, turning to head out. “We’ll pick you up when we drop Ben off.”

“You better,” she said. She watched them go and then headed inside. “Hey…So, I’m staying.”

“You are?” David asked, smiling brightly.

Sloane couldn’t help but smile a little. “Yep. So, what shall we do while we wait?”

“Um…Have you ever played Super Smash Bros?”

“…I have no idea what that is,” she said honestly.

“What?!” He looked at his mother. “Mom, can we?”

Sara smiled, happy that David was acting much brighter and more active. “I think that would be great…”

\-------------------

Adalind sighed as they kept climbing the spiraling staircase. It felt like they had been climbing for hours. Looking down at the flights below them, it was possible they had been. Where in the castle were they that it could get this high? “How much further? We got to be at the top of the castle by now.”

“Shh. Don't wake them!” Hoffman hissed.

Adalind really shouldn’t have been surprised he was crazy, but it didn’t stop her from looking at him like he was. “There's nobody here.”

“I'm here. I heard you,” a voice said. Adalind’s eyes widened and she whirled around in confusion.

“Now you've done it!” Hoffman moaned, turning to try and race back up the stairs.

“No, don't go!” A face suddenly pushed through the stone wall—like a living statue but so realistic it could just be a person with stone or mud smeared on their face. It was a man about her age, and he looked at her with stone eyes. “I know where your baby is.”

Adaline backed away but paused. “What?”

“I know where she is.”

Another face morphed out of the stone near the stairwell. “Ik weet ook waar ze is,” she said in Dutch.

“Where?”

“Don't listen to them!” Hoffman yelled.

More faces appeared, all speaking different languages, all telling her they knew where her baby was. She looked around desperately, trying to understand but they didn’t tell her anymore information. It was wrong.

“We must go now,” Hoffman said, motioning her to follow. He quickly headed up the steps.

“I know where your baby is.”

“Where?”

“I know where your baby is.”

“Would you please just tell me where she is?” she shouted desperately.

“I know where your baby is.”

“Tell me where she is!” The voices grew in number, the noise sounded like an insessent hum as they overlapped—like a swarm of bees. “Shut up!” She screamed. “Shut up!” she sobbed, covering her ears and leaning against a clear space of wall. She felt hot tears falling down her cheeks. It was too much noise, too much hope and then despair knowing this wasn’t real—it couldn’t be. “Please just tell me where she is!”

The faces quieted slowly but then began to cry with her, in rivulets down their faces. It was like fountains being turned on, the water covering the floor quickly. “No, no! Stop crying!” she gasped. Stop! Stop! Stop! Please stop!” The water began to rise over the stairwell, pooling at her feet, and she scrambled up. “Stop, just stop! Please just stop. Stop! Stop! This can't be happening now…” She quickly moved to get up to where Hoffman had gone, but around the next bend she was met with a stone wall. “What…?” She went up, pounding on the wall in confusion, but it was solid. She gasped when a face began to form on the wall, much bigger than before, and flailed back. The face was hers. It was her face in the stone and it began to cry the largest of the tears. “No, no, no, no. You have to... you have to stop. Stop crying! You have to stop!” She turned to go back down and was met with water that was already past her ankles. “Stop crying! STOP!” she screamed.

The faces just cried harder. She couldn’t go back down; it was already under water. There seemed to be no way out above either. The water continued rising and she slapped the walls, trying to find a mechanism or loose stone or anything that could get her out of there.

\----------------------

Sloane groaned as David sent her character flying again and was declared the winner. “Dangit, that’s the third time! I thought you said this character was easier…”

“You don’t play a lot of video games, huh?” he laughed.

“No, I moved around too much. There were arcade machines when I was younger at a shopping center but that’s about it.”

“Wow, you’re older than I thought.”

“Hey…” she said, playfully ruffling his hair. He’d flinched the first time she moved for him, but he’d relaxed quickly. “This new?” she asked, noticing the box by the TV.

“Yeah…Uncle Ben got it for me. To replace the one he got for my birthday Keith broke…” he added quietly.

“Broke?”

“…I was making too much noise…”

Sloane frowned. “Hey, look at me.” He looked up hesitantly. “You did _nothing_ wrong. Okay? You’re a kid. You’re supposed to make noise and play games and do stuff that causes messes and all that. Keith was a…butt.” She cringed a bit but figured Sara wouldn’t appreciate teaching him the words she wanted to use. “A monster…a butt monster. I mean, not to speak ill of the dead but…can’t really sugar coat it.”

David was giggling and then nodded. “Yeah…”

Sloane stood up. “I’m going to see about something to drink. You want something?”

“If we have lemonade, please.”

She nodded and headed into the kitchen. She saw Sara there, sitting and going over some books. “Hey…”

“Oh, hey…” she said, standing. Sloane realized they were photo albums and looked away.

“Drink run. David said there might be lemonade?”

“Yes, um, the pitcher in the fridge.” She nodded and got it out, finding some cups to put it in. “…You must think I’m stupid, huh?”

Sloane paused and looked at her. “Pardon?”

“Ending up with Keith,” she said, laughing bitterly.

“…I see a lot of bad stuff in this job,” she said honestly. “I’ve learned things happen and try not to judge. I don’t know what you’ve been through.”

She sniffed and looked at the photos. “What I’ve been through…Isn’t worth what I’ve put David through.”

Sloane hesitated but sighed. She wanted to talk she could tell. She wondered if she had some sort of flashing sign she couldn’t see saying _Free Therapist_. Walking over, she looked at the photos and saw another man with her and a very young David. “…That your first husband?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes…Daniel. He was a good man. A good dad too.”

“…What happened?”

She took a shuddering breath. “Drunk driver…Daniel was driving home at night after a business trip. He didn’t want to wait, he wanted to come home and some…genius drove a twice the limit and hit him.”

“I’m sorry,” she said honestly.

She nodded, having heard it before. “David was four…First brush with death and it’s your father. Not easy to explain. Two years later I thought it would be good to start dating again. That he could use a male role model and I…I loved Daniel, but I didn’t want to be alone. I Met Keith at work—he was a construction worker doing a project at our office. He seemed…nice. No red flags till he asked me to marry him 6 months later. I should’ve said no but he asked me at the amusement park with everyone watching and…I think he knew I wouldn’t be able to say no. Then it all just changed. He was controlling and vindictive and jealous…paying attention to David made him jealous, my own son! And then he just…” she started tearing up. “I’m sorry…He cut me off from most of our friends and I just…I haven’t been able to really talk about it.”

“…I’ve had controlling, abusive boyfriends before,” Sloane said. “All I can say is…it’ll get better. Like, not just him not being able to hurt you now. Eventually you’ll think about it less and less and so will David. It’ll still be there but…it won’t hurt you all the time.”

Sara looked up in surprise but then smiled and nodded. She rubbed at her eyes and sighed as she closed the album. “I had to hide these from Keith. Now I’ll show David, remind him what his real father was like—Keith never really wanted to be a dad to him.”

Sloane nodded slowly, trying not to examine the sympathy she felt too closely.

“Sloane?” David called.

“You’re being summoned back for a rematch I’ll wager,” she chuckled.

“Great, more getting my butt handed to me by a grade schooler,” she said, grabbing the drinks. She headed back in. “I’m here, I’m here. And so’s your lemonade.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the cup. Sloane sat back down then grunted and reached under her for whatever poked her. She pulled out the monster action figure. “Ah, the monster.” She offered him to David who took him and looked at him.

“…How do you fight monsters?”

Sloane paused in her sip and sighed, thinking what to tell him. “…Depends on the monster. They all have different weak points. Getting as much information as you can helps. But if you can’t, perseverance can get you a long way.”

“Perseverance?”

“Don’t give up. Keep fighting. Physically or with your brain, keep working to find a way out. Sometimes you can hide to catch your breath, but you can’t stay hiding. You gotta confront the problem and fight. And that’s true about everything.” David nodded slowly, thinking it over. “Which is why I will figure out how to beat you at this,” she finished, picking up the controller again.

He laughed and grabbed his. “We’ll see about that…”

They played another couple of rounds and Sloane was getting better, but David knew a lot of tricks she didn’t. When her phone rang she sighed in frustration and paused to look at it.

“Hey!”

Sloane looked at him apologetically but given it was Nick calling she didn’t have much choice. “Sorry, I gotta take this,” she said, standing to go over to the front of the house. “Hey, Nick.”

“Hey. Everything okay there?” He sounded agitated and she frowned.

“Yeah, just playing some games with David…I was considering offering to get some pizza delivered.”

“Well, you might hold off on that. We’re on our way back.”

“Yeah? It go okay at Nate’s?”

“No…Really no. He’s dead.”

“What?” she said, straightening with wide eyes.

“The Golem got him. We saw it, just as we were pulling up. Encased him and suffocated him like Keith. Then it disappeared.”

“It was like the ground swallowed him!” Trubel said, sounding a little freaked out.

“Damn…”

“That’s not the worst of it. Talking with Ben, we think it’s being summoned by David.”

“David?” she whispered, glancing back at him. He was playing with his action figures while he waited for her—and this time the hero was winning.

“Ben’s prayer was to protect David. So, the people who make him feel unsafe are in danger. Which wouldn’t be so bad, but we can’t control when that might happen or how it will take care of them.”

“No kidding…”

“We’re on our way back. There’s a way Ben has to stop it but…Look, we’ll talk when we get back.”

“Okay…See you soon.” She hanged up and turned when she heard Sara walking up.

“Is everything okay?” she asked worriedly.

“Yeah. My partners and your brother are coming back with some news.”

She breathed out in relief and nodded. “What'd they say?”

“They want to talk when they get back.”

“Okay…”

It wasn’t too long of a wait before Nick and Hank were at the door. Sara answered it and nodded. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Hank said, both walking inside with serious expressions. Sloane paused the game again and David looked up worriedly.

“So, did you arrest Nate?” Sara asked hopefully.

“You don't have to worry about Nate. He's taken care of,” Nick said. Sloane admired the subtle way he put it.

“Where's Ben?” she asked, noting her brother hadn’t come in.

“He's outside. He wanted to talk to David about what happened.” He nodded towards the back door.

“And I want to talk with you,” Hank said.

She was confused but nodded slowly. “Okay…David?” He looked up from examining his hero doll, nervous. “Your Uncle's outside, and he wants to talk to you, okay? Okay?”

He hesitated and Sloane smiled and patted his back. “It's okay, I'll come with you.” She got to her feet and pulled her jacket on. He nodded and stood as well. As they headed for the back door, David reached up and grabbed her hand. It surprised her but she shifted her grip and held on to him gently. She’d never felt a hand this small in hers before…

Outside, Ben was sitting on a bench towards the end of the back yard, looking nervous but resigned. “Hey Uncle Ben,” David said. He walked over to sit with him, and Sloane handed him his hero doll with a smile.

Nick and Trubel were off to the side and she walked over to join them. “What’s going on?”

Trubel and Nick both looked uncomfortable and Nick sighed. “You’re not going to like this but…play along, okay?” he said back quietly. Sloane frowned and turned to look at Ben and David.

Ben was shaking with nerves and emotion as he set a hand on David’s shoulder. “You know how much I love you, right?” he asked.

“Yeah…?”

“And you know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Yeah,” he said again, getting worried.

Ben took a shuddering breath, looking close to tears. “I'm so sorry, but this has to happen…”

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused and scared now. Ben stood and moved away from the bench to stand with Trubel and Sloane.

Nick stepped forward then and stood over David with an imposing expression. Sloane frowned more. “David...What's wrong with you? Why would you lie to all of us?” David looked confused and glanced over to Ben and Sloane. “Listen to me!” Nick barked, making him jump and look back at him. He got down face to face with him, in just a foot away and raising his voice. “Now I'm gonna have to arrest you and take you to jail, and... and you can't play with toys in jail!” He grabbed the action figure and tossed it away. Sloane had caught on to the plan quickly—David needed to get scared to summon the Golem. But Nick was right, she did not like it. “Come on.” He grabbed David by his good arm and hauled him up to get off the bench and towards the gate to the front.

“No! Uncle Ben!”

Ben sobbed and moved to go after them. “Stop, it's not working!”

Trubel put a hand on his chest to stop him while David tried to get away from Nick.

“Stop! Don't! No, don't! You're hurting me! Sloane!” She felt a stab in her gut and her heart when he yelled her name and had to bite her tongue hard to focus on anything else. “Leave me alone!”

Nick did pause but got down on his knees again to grab David by the shoulders. “Why are you doing this? You can make all this stop if you just tell me what you did!” Behind him a puddle of red earth began to rise from the ground and take the shape of a huge, imposing man with a scowling face.

“Nick!” Trubel and Sloane yelled. He looked back just before a mass of clay swung at him and knocked him hard out of the way.

“Oh, my God, David!” Sara yelled. She’d seen Nick pulling at her son and came to stop him only to be confronted by the Golem. She didn’t believe, had no idea it was real.

Nick coughed, having the wind knocked out of him, but focused on Ben. “The shem! Do it now!”

Ben quickly pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and rushed towards the Golem to try and shove it inside of the clay and break the prayer. But even when it touched him, he just swiped Ben out of the way like a fly.

“No! Uncle Ben!” David yelled. He was scared and Trubel quickly grabbed him and pulled him back with her and Sloane.

“It didn't work…” Ben groaned. The Golem was moving towards both of them, intent on destroying the perceived threats.

Sloane reached up and pulled her knife from her jacket. “Trubel, watch David!”

“Sloane!” David yelled as she rushed forward.

She knew it wasn’t going to work—the thing was made of clay—but she still brought the knife down into its firm but gooey side. “You leave them alone!” she yelled. The Golem turned to her, and on a second swing it enclosed around her hand and started pulling her into its body. She grunted and tried to pull her arms out, digging her heels into the ground. “It’s got me!”

“Sloane!” Nick yelled, trying to get to her. The Golem swiped at him again, this time encasing his feet in clay so he couldn’t move. Sloane kept struggling but her arms were now inside the Golem’s body and she couldn’t move them, her legs were also being encased and pulled in.

“No!” Trubel yelled, moving to try and grab her. David stared with wide eyes, shaking. She grunted as she tried to pull. “It won’t let go! I can’t get her!”

The Golem pushed her away as well. Sloane screwed up her face as the clay started moving over her neck and chest. “David! Now’s not the time to be scared!” she yelled. “Fight it!” She took a breath as the clay covered her mouth and nose.

“No!” David yelled. “Don't hurt her!” He ran forward, grabbing his hero action figure from the ground and rushing to stab it into the Golem’s side. A deep rumbling came from it and he looked at David but didn’t move to hurt him. “Get away from her!”

“David!” Sarah screamed, but Hank grabbed her before she could move.

“Leave her alone! Get away from her!” David yelled, stabbing at it again and again. “Stop it!” The Golem groaned, bits of it actually falling away where the toy struck him. “Go away!” The Golem groaned even louder and then began to melt away back into the ground. Sloane gasped when it released her, stumbling back. David stared at the monster and then went over to her as it disappeared completely aside from the mud on their clothes. “S-Sloane?”

She coughed, spitting some clay out, and then looked at him and smiled. “You got him…My hero.”

David was a little shocked but then smiled. Sara got up from checking on her brother and rushed over to him. “I got him. I got him, mom!” he yelled triumphantly as she grabbed him close.

Sara gave a shuddering, giddy laugh. “I guess you did,” she agreed. She looked at everyone else as they stood and collected themselves. “Anybody want to tell me what the hell just happened?”

“I got him,” he said again proudly. “I got him, didn't I?”

Nick sighed as he went over and helped Sloane to her feet. “That's the last time I ever yell at a kid…”

“Better be,” she said, coughing again.

\--------------------

Since they couldn’t really say it was a Golem that killed Keith and Nate Harrow, they decided to just leave it as unsolved for now. They explained as best they could what happened and though Sara was shaken, she couldn’t deny it like her brother thought she would. After all she’d seen it with her own eyes.

Their car had protective seat covers luckily, but they’d need a lot of washing. Juliette had invited them all over so they could eat together and explain things. Hank declined, wanting to go home and take a nice shower, but Sloane and Trubel were hungry. First though they needed to pre-wash.

Sloane sighed as Nick turned on the hose and started spraying her down. “Man, this stuff gets everywhere..." she muttered.

“Well, I'm getting you just clean enough you can come through the house,” Nick said, laughing a little.

“Can this clean my sinuses too?” she said, spitting another wad of clay.

“I think that counts as waterboarding, so we won’t be doing that,” Nick said with a smile.

“Just one nostril, come on.”

He laughed. “You’re going to have to start keeping a change of clothes over here too.”

“You invited me,” she reminded him.

“Well, figure we should watch you, make sure it’s not like that virus that turns people into a demon.”

“That’s encouraging,” she said snidely.

Trubel ran the towel through her hair after having already been hosed down. “Do we make an entry for the golem even though it’s not wesen?”

“I think it would be good,” Sloane said. “Better to have the information on hand for us and future generations. Plus, I got the pot and the scroll already.”

“You what?” Nick asked in shock.

“Well, I will,” she amended. “I told Ben I didn’t trust that not biting anyone else in the ass and said I can keep it safe. It’ll be going back to Oma’s house and into the basement, under lock and key, next chance I get.”

“Well…I guess that is rather safe. What about the library though?”

“I’ll send them a copy of the info, but I don’t want a Grimm trying this either to be honest. Plus, our branch is still down.”

“Still?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “There’s a shortage of qualified individuals to work it. The front desk knows about it but isn’t cleared and they haven’t accepted the training to do it.”

Nick hummed and then turned the water off and tossed her a towel. “Well, hopefully someone gets found soon. I wouldn’t mind the extra resources…”

“I want to see it too,” Trubel said. “It sounds cool.”

Sloane smiled and shivered a little. Nick set the hose down and walked over to push her towards the door. “Take off your shoes and head inside. Water’s not the worst things we’ve had to clean up…”

She nodded, taking off her boots and setting them next to the door and walking in with her socked feet. Juliette was finishing up dinner when she walked in. “Hey. I grabbed some clothes for you and Trubel, you can toss yours in the dryer.”

Sloane and Trubel smiled and grabbed a set from the table near the door. “Thanks!” Sloane tried to echo it but then coughed into her arm and cleared her throat.

“Yeah, better go change now before you get sick…” Juliette said worriedly.

“I’ve got a good immune system, it’s just all the clay,” she sighed. “But thank you.” She headed for the laundry room with Trubel to change. When they came out—in shirts and pajama pants—with the dryer started dinner was ready.

“So, the golem was an answer to a prayer,” Juliette clarified, bringing the lasagna she made out to the table.

“A real badass prayer,” Trubel agreed.

“That's kind of big deal, don't you think? I mean, maybe somebody should be proclaiming this from a mountaintop,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, I tried to proclaim a lot of things. Look where it got me.”

“Plus, let’s not encourage people that any old prayer will do things. Otherwise we’ll just get a lot of confusion with the lottery and people getting promotions,” Sloane said. “See how well praying for protection went?”

“If David hadn't turned on his protector, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now,” Nick agreed as he opened his beer and took a sip. There was a knock at the door, and he sighed since he was the only one still standing. “I'll get it.” He headed for the door.

“Being a Grimm didn't help?” Juliette asked, looking at Sloane and Trubel.

“Nah-uh. That thing wasn't wesen,” Trubel said.

“Didn’t fear is in the least bit.” She coughed again and cleared her throat.

“Maybe I should make you some hot tea…” Juliette said, frowning.

Sloane shook her head. “Don’t trouble yourself, really.”

Meanwhile, Nick answered the door to see Rosalee, Monroe and of all people Renard’s mother Elizabeth standing on his doorstep. “Uh-oh,” he said automatically, having a bad feeling.

“No, no, hear us out, and then you can "uh-oh.”,” Monroe said, looking like he was about to deliver bad news.

“We've identified exactly what Adalind did to you,” Elizabeth said calmly and coolly.

“Yeah, we figured out a way for you to get your Grimm back,” Monroe said as he clapped him on the shoulder sand headed inside. He still looked worried despite the good news.

“It's a spell but a complicated one,” Rosalee added equally hastily. She paused when Sloane and Juliette both rose and came to the entrance to the dining room. Trubel was already digging into food. “Sloane? What are you doing here? And in pajamas?”

“Long story,” she said. “Borrowing clothes while we wash ours, clay is a bitch to get out with a hose.”

“…What?”

“Let’s focus, please,” Elizabeth said.

“Right, you said…you can get my powers back? With a complicated spell? How complicated?” Nick asked.

“There's a key ingredient missing, and you're not gonna like what it is,” she said, though she looked amused.

“What is it?” he asked hesitantly.

Elizabeth looked over directly at Juliette with a smile. “Her.”

It was quiet as they all looked at her as well and Juliette blinked owlishly. “…What? Huh? What do you mean me?” she asked, tensing at everyone’s stares.

Rosalee tried to smile comfortingly as she came forward. “Elizabeth recreated the potion that Adalind used on Nick.”

“Yeah, and in order to re-Grimm Nick, you have to, you know, do what Adalind did,” Monroe said simply.

“Do what Adalind did?” Juliette repeated skeptically. “Seriously?”

“Exactly what Adalind did,” Elizabeth said.

“Yeah, you know, breathe in the potion, and...” Monroe started, looking at Nick and trailing off.

“And what?” he asked.

“And make love to you,” Elizabeth finished.

Sloane felt her gut twist. Why was thinking about that making it hard for her to breathe?

“Make love to me? That's it?” Nick asked, obviously thinking that was easy.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Monroe said with a tight, forced smile.

Juliette narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do I get the feeling there's more to it than that?” Trubel and Sloane were also feeling that as well.

“When you do it, you won't exactly be you,” Elizabeth admitted slowly.

Nick’s brow furrowed now that things were getting complicated. “What do you mean?”

“The potion will transform you into...” she trailed off, looking regretful though still smiling faintly.

His eyes widened when he realized what they were talking about and the girls’ jaws dropped. “Oh, God, no,” he said, shaking his head as he tried to clear it.

“You don't mean...” Trubel asked, looking at Sloane in shock.

“Adalind,” Juliette said, looking particularly put out.

“Okay, hold on,” Sloane said. “Maybe we can like sit and talk about this? Start from the beginning—like, when did you start working on this?” She looked at Elizabeth with a touch of trepidation.

Elizabeth smiled back. “Sean, Monroe, and Rosalee mentioned you are also a Grimm?”

“Yeah, currently fully powered if a little damp,” she said, folding her arms and suppressing a tickle in her throat.

“I’m one too,” Trubel said.

“Well, two out of three working isn’t bad…But I think you’re right, let’s explain a bit more in depth.” She swept past Sloane, who eyed her still, and walked into the sitting area. The others followed and sat down around her. “I met Monroe and Rosalee at the hospital when they came to visit my son in hopes of helping Nick. Sean also wants to help, but he was in no condition to do so and I’d prefer he not overexert himself even now. So, I offered my assistance. He knew where Adalind’s storage unit was and luckily she didn’t bring it with her.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of weird, neat stuff in there,” Monroe said.

“Including, lucky for you, her mother’s book of shadows which I she used for this.”

“One of those again,” Sloane said with a sigh, remembering the one stolen to use for beauty spells that ended up with a body count.

“Indeed. Opening it up required a bit of blood on my part, but I found the spell and we are able to recreate it.”

“Why would you?” Trubel asked.

“Similar to treating someone sick, you have to know what kind of virus you’re dealing with,” she said smoothly. “But in this case, it’s also important to curing Nick.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a pointed hat that was a bit more traditional for witches, setting it on the table. “The potion is brewed with the hair of the one who’s form you wish to take, then breathed through the hexencap. These are specially made to do this. And this is how we will reverse what she’s done.”

“So, you're saying,” Juliette said slowly. “I have to breathe it in through this hat, and turn into Adalind, and... do everything Adalind did...

“As you,” Elizabeth nodded.

“And I'm supposed to sleep with Juliette, only she's gonna look like Adalind?” Nick asked, looking perturbed by the whole idea.

“To break Adalind's spell, we need to reverse it exactly. Every step she took also needs to be reversed,” she said sagely.

“No way. We're not putting Juliette through that,” Nick said flatly.

“The complex nature of Adalind's spell may have unintended effects on Nick. They could only grow worse. Might be just as dangerous to do nothing.”

“That's my problem, not hers.”

“Nick,” Sloane said. “Do you not remember the headache and…” she prodded.

Nick glanced at her but then away. “I’m fine. I’m not putting Juliette through that for me.”

“Then there's nothing more I can do,” Elizabeth sighed, standing and picking the hat up.

“Wait,” Juliette said quickly, though her words were halting as she tried to wrap her brain around it all. “If I do this, and I transform into Adalind, it's still me, right? I mean, I would know it's me.”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“And Nick would know it's you,” Rosalee pointed out.

“And presumably you would know that Nick knows that it's you,” Monroe said with a smile.

“Yeah, but she wouldn't be looking like Juliette,” Trubel pointed out. Monroe and Rosalee looked at her with a put-out expression and Sloane sighed. “Just saying…”

“Maybe think of it like wearing a costume,” Rosalee suggested.

“A costume of a woman who tried to kill me,” Nick said morosely, looking at her with a tired expression that made her wince.

“Yeah, I don't think it's so much about the romance right now…” Monroe said quietly, patting his wife’s shoulder.

“It's about getting it done,” Trubel said. “Just saying…”

Sloane sighed again, trying to ignore how uncomfortable she felt. It was strange, she wasn’t prudish by any means, why was this making her so squeamish? “Is it really the only way?”

“I’m afraid so. I would suggest a very dark room,” Elizabeth said.

“Well, forget it. No more potions,” he said bitterly.

“Nick, if you want to be a Grimm again, this is the only way,” Juliette said.

He looked at her in shock and she just looked back resigned and tired. He swallowed, taking a breath and then casting his eyes down. “We're gonna need a little time to think about this…”

“We get it, Nick,” Monroe said, nodding and getting up.

“Take your time,” Rosalee agreed, standing with him to head out the door. They paused when Elizabeth didn’t follow.

Elizabeth looked down at him with an unreadable expression. “If you do change your mind, do it quickly. I won't be here much longer.”

Nick didn’t say anything and neither did anyone else as she headed out.

Sloane looked at Nick and felt another pang in her chest. She knew she’d do anything to get her powers back in his shoes—but he was scared. And part of that fear, she knew, was losing Juliette. More than that, he was looking at the possibility of not being a Grimm anymore. To him, that was a tempting carrot on a stick. To her…when she first came, she’d have been angry she knew. It was a different feeling now though; one she didn’t want to really voice.

“…We’ll go ahead and go home,” Sloane said quietly, standing. “Give you two some time.”

“Thanks,” Nick muttered.

“Take some food with you. I’m…not very hungry,” Juliette said. “There’s some to go boxes we kept in the cabinet on the bottom next to the fridge.

Sloane nodded and numbly walked to go get some of the food. She hesitated but tuned in her hearing to Nick and Juliette as Trubel went to get their clothes from the dryer.

It was quiet a moment before they spoke. “A normal life sounds really good,” Juliette said softly. “Can we really go back to that?”

“…Maybe this is our chance to find out,” Nick replied, sad but hopeful.

Sloane felt her heart break a little because suddenly, like there was a huge chasm between them now.

\--------------------

When she woke up the next morning, it felt like the chasm had been filled with cement and then dropped on her head. She groaned when her alarm sounded and managed to fumble the slide on her phone to turn it off. The groan turned into a fit of coughs when she tried to take a deep breath.

“Sloane?” Trubel asked, knocking on the door before poking her head in.

“Yeah, I’m up,” she croaked, clearing her throat.

“Yeah, and you sound like a car trying to turn over…” Sloane gave her a tired look and Trubel frowned and came in. “You also don’t look very good.”

“I just woke up…” She flinched a bit when Trubel reached up to press a hand to her forehead.

“Oh, wow, you are feverish as hell, even I can tell that.”

“I’m fine…” she sighed, gently moving her hand aside and standing. She had to lock her legs not to sway a little bit.

“Sloane, you got covered in weird clay and doused with the hose and stuff. You might’ve gotten a cold.”

“I’m fine,” she said more firmly. “I don’t get sick. Gotta get ready for work…” There was an urgent sounding knock at the door, and she grunted softly. “Now what…?”

Walking over, she opened the door to see Bud standing there, looking around with an antsy twitch. “Sloane! Hey, I need to talk to…wow, you okay?”

She gave him a withering look. “I’m FINE—” she broke off into a fit of coughs and turned away.

“Sheesh, that doesn’t sound fine…”

“She got sick from a case last night,” Trubel said. Bud jumped when he saw her but slowly eased back. “You’re Bud, right?”

“Y-yeah…and you’re, uh…”

“You can call me Trubel.”

“Huh…neat. Uh, anyway, I didn't mean to bother you so early, but, well, we heard about Nick losing his powers and I wanted to say we know this might be rough so we’re happy to help! You know, while his whole Grimm thing is...kaput.”

Sloane managed to get herself under control and looked at him in confusion. “Bud, how did you find that out?”

“Ah, well…I went to talk with Monroe and Rosalee, because…” He glanced at Trubel. “Well, I was just a little concerned. I thought it was amazing Portland had 3 Grimms who don’t just kill willy-nilly and…they broke the news to me. I'm so sorry. It's the worst thing that ever happened.”

“It’s definitely not good,” Sloane agreed. She didn’t want to bring up Nick was considering staying “kaput”, so to speak. She didn’t like to think about it.

“I, uh, also did want to introduce myself. We haven't formally met yet. I'm Bud—well, you know that. We sort of ran into each other when you broke up the wedding. I don't mean broke up in a bad way, although it was pretty unnerving, especially for me when I saw you…Anyway, I was really relieved to hear that you were a friend of Nick's.”

“Nice to meet you?” Trubel said. She wasn’t used to all the chatter.

“Bud, you didn’t tell a lot of people about Trubel, did you?”

“No! I mean…I mentioned it to my wife, but we’re not going to just spread that around,” he laughed nervously.

She narrowed her eyes. “Bud, why did you really come here?”

“Uh, I'm glad you asked. I was wondering if you'd be willing to help me. I mean, now that Nick can't. Not that that reflects on him in any negative capacity, but I have this little wesen-type problem.”

“It’s not something the police can handle?” Trubel asked.

“Oh, no, no, no. It's... it's really kind of small potatoes. You see, my kid is being bullied by this wesen kid at school, and I thought maybe Trubel could talk to him.”

“Trubel?” Sloane asked.

“Well, I was thinking you at first, but you really look like you need to rest up…”

“I’m not sick!” Her voice cracked and she broke out into a fit of coughs again and had to grab hold of the table next to the door.

“Whoa!” Trubel quickly moved to support her. “Sloane, you _are_ sick. C’mon, get back to bed. I’ll call Nick and the others.”

Sloane tried to take some deep breaths and sighed as she followed. “I never get sick…” she complained.

“Everyone gets sick eventually,” Bud said following and fretting. “But I admit, I didn’t think you did. This isn’t serious, is it?”

“I’ve got a cough and my sinuses are killing me, that’s all. It must’ve been the Golem…”

Trubel helped her into bed and brought the covers up to her chin. “Okay, so, I’m calling everyone to let them know you need rest. And I’ll help Bud with this school bully.”

“You sure?” Sloane asked.

“I’m _sure_ you are in no shape to be intimidating anyone,” she said seriously.

“Don’t get smart,” she muttered. Sloane looked at Bud. “Trubel can get it done, I’m not worried about that. But try to keep her and what’s going on with Nick as much under the radar as you can.”

“Right, no worries there. I just need her help to, you know, smooth things over, straighten things out. Should be super easy.”

Sloane sighed, already feeling tired. “Okay…I'll leave it to you then.”

“Right. And you better stay here,” Trubel said.

Sloane waved her hand but turned over to curl up under her blanket. Trubel closed her door on the way out and pulled out her phone to call Nick.

“Hey, Trubel. What’s up?”

“Hey. Um, Sloane is sick.”

“What?” he asked, surprised.

“Yeah, she’s got a fever and is coughing and stuff. I managed to make her stay in bed, but I don’t think she’s coming in to work…”

Nick sighed. “Wow…Okay, yeah, she needs to rest then. Do you guys have medicine?”

“Ah…no, I don’t think so,” Trubel realized. “I was going to call Rosalee too, she could help, right?”

“Yeah, she should be able to one way or the other.”

“Alright. I gotta head out for a bit, Bud asked for some help with a wesen bully.”

“What?”

“Hey, Nick!” Bud called, and Trubel rolled her eyes and held the phone towards him. “Yeah, hey. Um, my wife and I heard from Rosalee and Monroe about your Grimm powers being well…gone. We just wanted to say we’re really sorry about it and hope it works out, you know?”

“I know, Bud,” Nick said patiently. “But you need help with a bully?”

“Well, my kid, not me. It’s pretty small time but I figured a Grimm can get through to the kid bullying mine why it’s not a good thing to do. So, you’re not really the guy I need…Um, no offense.”

“None taken…” he said blandly. “Okay, if you got this Trubel, I’ll play phone tree and let Rosalee know Sloane needs some help.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” Trubel said, taking the phone back. “Talk to you later.” She hanged up and got her shoes on to head out with Bud. The moment she locked the door, Bud put a hand on her shoulder with a panicked look on his face.

“I lied. We've got a huge problem. Nick's in trouble.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Trubel asked in surprise.

“It's all my fault. I told Monroe and Rosalee that I wouldn't tell anybody that Nick's not a Grimm anymore, but then I had a few beers with my buddy, Frank, who said he wouldn't tell anybody, but then I heard that Frank blabbed it to Phil, and Phil spilled it to Joe, and Joe leaked it to this Klaustreich fellow named Shaw.”

Trubel looked at him impatiently. “Well, who the hell is Shaw?”

Bud looked put out but also increasingly worried. “Believe me, you don't want to know, but that's why I'm here. You're gonna have to know. Shaw is bad news. He... he's got some kind of beef with Nick. When he heard that Nick's not a Grimm anymore, he started telling everybody that he was gonna teach him a lesson, and by lesson I think he means he's gonna kill him, and I can't stop him! So, I thought “Sloane, she’ll stop him!” but if she’s sick, she’s not going to be able to intimidate him or fight him if it comes to that. So, you’re the only other Grimm I know about that. So now you know why I'm here and why I had to lie to Nick, right? A-and Sloane, because if she knew, she’d go kick his ass even sick and she might get hurt and then I’d be in _really_ big trouble…”

Trubel had stopped listening at the fact this Shaw was planning on hurting Nick. “You know where to find this Shaw guy?” she asked, a little darkness edging her voice.

“I got no idea. But I know Frank, and Frank knows Phil, and...”

“I get it,” she said, turning to head to Bud’s car. “We need to talk to Joe.”

\-----------------------

Sloane slept for a long while. She heard a knock at the door vaguely but was having a hard time focusing. Dimly she heard the key to the front door turn and someone come in. “Sloane?” Rosalee called.

“Rosalee?” Her voice came out as a hoarse rasp and she ended up in another fit of coughs.

Rosalee came to the door, and Monroe, Nick and Hank were right behind. “Holy crap, you are sick,” Monroe said, looking at her sympathetically.

“Am I today’s entertainment?” she grumbled, glaring at them all.

“No, we came to check on you,” Hank said, walking over.

“We come bearing medicine, tea, and soup,” Monroe said, holding a bag from the store and another with a couple of huge containers of soups.

“…Thanks,” Sloane said honestly.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Nick asked worriedly.

She shook her head and then groaned as that made the world tilt. “No…not hungry…”

“You should eat a little something even if you’re not hungry,” Rosalee said. “I’ll heat up some soup. Chicken noodle?”

“…sure,” she said.

She smiled and took the containers from Monroe, heading for the kitchen. Monroe used his now free hand to pull out some cough medicine. “You can take this after you eat.”

“You guys didn’t have to do all this,” she sighed.

“We’re your friends, yeah we do,” Hank said.

“…Why’re you all together though?”

“Ah…”

“…It’s a case, isn’t it?” Sloane moved sit up, pushing the comforter down. “Let me get dressed.”

“Whoa, no you don’t,” Nick said, quickly helping Hank to keep her in bed.

“It’s a wesen case! That’s why you’re all together!” she accused.

“When did you get to be a good detective?”

“I always was, even when I wasn’t!”

“Touché,” he sighed. “Yes, we do have a possible case involving a wesen. Monroe and Rosalee were already picking you up some stuff so we agreed to meet here to discuss. But you are way to sick to be out of bed.”

“I’m not that sick,” she growled.

Nick frowned and set a hand on her forehead, pushing her back to the pillow. “If I can do that, yeah you are. Also, you are burning up!”

Sloane couldn’t deny she was feeling very warm. The fever for sure was part of it, but Nick’s hand on her skin was making her flare up as well. Weakly she reached up and batted it away. “I’m not that bad!”

“Well, let’s check.” Monroe pulled a digital thermometer out of the bag and pulled it out of its casing. “We figured you probably didn’t have one of these either.”

“…Maybe.” He just smiled and held it out to her.

Sighing and rolling her eyes, she took the thermometer and stuck it under her tongue. “Explain what’s going please.”

“…You, uh, gotta turn it on first,” Hank said, pressing the button. She glared petulantly at him. They then started explaining what they were called out for. Ava Diaz had hit a jogger the night before after crashing through the gate of her own house trying to get away from someone or something. Her husband, Gabriel Martin, said she’d had issues of paranoid delusions for about six months. And they usually involve a “Wolf man” chasing her.

“I have soup and hot tea,” Rosalee said, coming in with a small tray just as the thermometer beeped.

“And Sloane has a fever of…101!” Monroe exclaimed as he took it to read.

“That thing’s faulty,” she muttered, coughing again.

Rosalee set the tray down over her lap. “Does that mean you’ll stay in bed?”

“I think I would be fine—”

“Sloane,” she warned, glaring at her mildly.

She sighed but finally nodded. “Okay, yes…But I can still help you know.”

“We know,” Nick said. “That’s also part of why we’re here. We were just explaining, we have a case where a woman unfortunately hit someone with her car.”

“Not very wesen-y,” Rosalee said. She gestured at Sloane who sighed and blew on a spoonful of soup before eating it.

“Well, she’s been going through some mental issues. Apparently, she’s been seeing a “wolf man” who’s terrorizing her.”

“We were able to get a picture she drew in therapy,” Nick said, pulling the picture out of his pocket and unfolding it to show them. The picture was of a humanoid man with red-orange fur and huge ears off the top of his head, and very large fangs.

“Huh…that’s interesting,” Monroe said.

“We think is being stalked by a wesen, uh, sort of like a Blutbad,” Hank said.

“No, no, no. This is not a Blutbad,” Monroe said, shaking his head. “Blutbader are just one branch of a pretty huge family tree. There's all kinds of canid wesen, from the Russian with the Volkodlak to the Spanish lobo hombre.”

“Yeah, but your branch is one of the stronger I’ve heard,” Sloane said, taking another sip. “Rip people limb from limb kind of strong.”

“I won’t deny we are a hunky bunch,” Monroe said with a smile.

“Not what I said,” she sneered, gesturing rudely with her spoon. Monroe just smiled.

“Can we focus on what part of the tree you think this guy is from?” Nick asked.

“Right. This particular fellow is a Luison, South American in origin, you can tell by the ears. It's a dead giveaway.”

“Oh, those assholes,” Sloane said, looking at the picture with a look of pure disgust.

“You know them well?” Nick guessed.

“Sort of…You remember that story I told you, about why I don’t like guns?” Nick nodded slowly while the others were a bit confused. “It was a bunch of Coyotels and Hundjagers kidnapping people, but a family of Luison were at the head of the trafficking ring. Took us a while after that to root out the rest of them because they scattered to the wind. They’re usually more…analytical than others. They’ve got the claws and the fangs, but they’d prefer to have someone else get theirs dirty.” Nick hummed, looking at the picture.

“So, you think a Luison is involved here?” Rosalee asked.

He nodded but shrugged as well. “This woman's very wealthy. It could be her husband is trying to drive her mad.”

“He's doing a really good job,” Hank added. “She's about to be institutionalized.”

“And you can't tell her the truth, of course, because that'd sound even crazier than what she already thinks,” Monroe sighed.

“Are you sure the husband is the Luison?” Rosalee said.

“No, and there's no way I can find out,” Nick growled.

“I can—” Sloane started.

“You can’t do anything with that fever,” Hank replied seriously. “Just rest and get better.”

She grumbled into her soup and tea, fighting back another cough.

“But if we don't find out, there's nothing we can do for her,” Nick sighed.

“You want me to take a look?” Monroe asked.

“I hate to ask…” Nick said, though he sounded grateful. Hanks phone rang and he picked it up to see what news came through.

“You didn't. I'm volunteering,” Monroe said with a smile.

“Got it, thanks,” Hank said, hanging up the phone. “Ava's doctor. She's awake. She’s the one who drew those.”

Nick quickly gathered up the pictures back into the folder. “We better go visit her now then.”

“Want me to come with you guys, 'cause...” Monroe started.

“No, we should talk to her first. I’ll call you when we’re ready for your expertise.” Monroe nodded with a smile. Nick looked at Sloane and smiled. “You get better, okay?”

“Why, need me to carry you guys like usual?” she said, smiling a little maliciously.

“Get some rest, crabby,” he shot back.

She pouted as they turned to leave and sighed. “I hate being sick…”

“No one likes being sick,” Rosalee said sympathetically. “But rest is the best medicine.”

“And right behind that is actual medicine,” Monroe said, digging out the cough medicine. “Assuming this isn’t wesen related, this should do okay.”

“But I did add a few herbs to the soup and tea,” Rosalee winked.

Sloane smiled at them a little. “Hm. This is the first time I’ve been sick in years…last time I just had to ride it out…”

“Well, we’re here to help this time. Finish your soup and get some rest, we’ll stop by later.”

“You really don’t have to trouble yourselves this much—”

“It’s not trouble. Speaking of which, where is she?”

“Helping Bud with something…By the way, you told _Bud_ about Nick?” she asked, a little judgy.

They blushed a bit and gave wry smiles. “He kind of surprised us, worried about the “Third Grimm”, then about how you and Nick are great Grimms and Hank doing everything too…we had to tell him before he started talking about throwing you all a party or something,” Monroe said.

“He promised not to tell anyone,” Rosalee added.

“Its Bud,” Sloane said, lifting the bowl to drink the rest of her soup, chewing at the bit of chicken left. “He already told his wife.”

“Yeah…hopefully that’s the only person he told…”

\-----------------

The water was up beyond her shoulders now and Adalind was doing everything she could go keep her head above water. “Stop!” She begged. “Stop crying!” The water came up over her head and she felt stupid. She was about to die in a sea of tears! It was ironic, in a way. She’d told Renard she was done crying and now this.

But just as she closed her eyes, floating in the water, she was brought down hard to the ground as it disappeared. She gasped in a breath and looked around in confusion. She wasn’t in the stairwell any longer—now she was in one of the castle halls. Looking at her hand and her clothes, she was perfectly dry. Shakily she got to her feet and looked around. “What…the hell?” she whispered. She didn’t want to raise her voice in case someone was around. But also, just couldn’t find her voice.

Until she jumped and yelled when a hand came to her shoulder.

“Shhhh!” Hoffman said. Adalind was relieved to see him again, though a part of her was still angry he’d left her behind.

“How did I get here? Why did you leave me?”

“I told you not to wake them,” he said, pushing her to start moving.

“They knew where my baby was!”

“You heard what you wanted them to say. Now, hurry!” She started to move with him but froze when she heard a baby’s cry echo through the halls. “Don't stop!”

“There's a baby back there,” she said, the crying continuing. She turned, trying to pinpoint the sound through the echo.

“Do not go back!”

“That's my baby!” she shouted. There was no proof of course, but she felt it in her core. Wrenching away from Hoffman, she rushed back through the hall and turned a corner, trying to follow the echo. At the end of the hall she came to another that looked just like the one that she’d left. She tried again and ended up right back there. “Where's my baby?” she yelled, her own voice joining the echoing cries that never got louder or quieter. “Where's—”

“Do you know where she is?” her voice asked. But that wasn’t what she was going to ask. Turning, she saw a set of stairs at the end of the hall and she saw herself—a full body, twin of herself, climbing the stairs. She was confused but only paused a moment before following her. Her doppelganger seemed to move with a purpose, jogging through the halls on a path and she followed her.

“Wait! Do you know where she is! Please, do you know where my baby is!?” She followed her up the stairs and down several halls before down another small set of stairs. “Wait, please…where did she go?” she panted, coming to the end of the hall with three doors.

“Where did she go?” her voice asked from the left.

“Where did she go?” her voice asked from the center.

“Where did she go?” her voice asked from the right.

Adalind looked between them all. She wasn’t stupid. She knew something or someone was messing with her. Her desperation was having her make stupid choices. But she was desperate, and she felt the need to do _something_ clawing at her brain and her heart like a caged animal. Taking a breath, she moved to the center door and pushed it open.

She stood there, in the center of the room, a serene smile on her face. In her hands—dripping red with blood—was a platter with Hoffman’s head on it. But his eyes rolled open and he looked at her with a pitying stare. “I know…you just want your baby.”

Adalind screamed.

\------------------

The evening that next day, Nick went over to check on Sloane and update her. Trubel wasn’t home and he tried not to worry. Sloane had given him a key in case he needed to get to something in her collection, so he didn’t knock. “Sloane?” She didn’t answer so he moved in and went to her bedroom.

Sloane was asleep still, on her stomach with her arms under her pillow. She was still breathing a little raspy through her mouth, a bit of drool on her pillow, but seemed to be sleeping well. Nick tried not laugh but he couldn’t help but smile. He rarely saw her relax like this. It might have something to do with the cold medicine bottle that was half full on her nightstand. He debated just letting her sleep when she shifted a bit and cracked an eye open. “…Oh, it’s you,” she sighed, relaxing again. “Don’t sneak up on me, I have a weapon under here…”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nick said, not doubting her. “How do you feel?”

“Mmm…still tired but…a little better?”

He walked over and set a hand on her forehead. “Well, you still have a fever…” He blinked when she didn’t push his hand away. In fact, she almost seemed to be moving into his touch. “Sloane?”

“Your hand feels good…” she muttered.

Nick sighed a bit. “You’re pretty out of it…”

“No I’m not…”

“Well you can still argue with me at least,” he smiled.

“Because you’re wrong…Why’d you come over anyway?” she said, looking up at him blearily.

“Partially to check on you, partially to let you know what we’ve found out. But maybe I should just let you rest…”

“No…I should probably eat something…” she sighed, sitting up.

“Want me to get you more chicken soup?”

Sloane’s face screwed up, but she sighed. “I guess…”

“Sick of the soup?”

“…To be honest, I don’t like chicken soup much,” she admitted, coughing a little.

“Oh? Even my mom got me chicken soup when I was sick. What would you prefer?”

“…Mulligan Tanny,” she muttered, thinking.

He blinked. “Pardon?”

Sloane started, maybe forgetting she said it out loud a moment before blushing. “Oma…she’d make this soup called “mulligatawny”. But I couldn’t say that when I was little, so I usually said “Mulligan Tanny”. She learned it in England but found the roots back in India and preferred it that way. It’s like…turkey and ginger and garlic and…” she sighed, rubbing between her eyes. “I don’t remember…I’ve never found something quite like it. Chicken noodle is fine.” She pushed the covers down and staggered to her feet.

“I could heat it up,” Nick said.

“I’d like to move a little bit. Fill me in one what’s going on.” She padded into the kitchen and Nick explained what they knew so far while she heated up some of the soup. That day the suspect—Gabriel Martel—was at an inquest regarding his wife’s accident. It was decided that Monroe would go to their house to check it out because that would be the best way to sniff out if he was a Luison or not. The courthouse itself would be too odorous with all the people in and out. He’d gone and managed to sneak in through the attic window by climbing a trellis. He was picking up some strong scent of a Luison immediately, which was odd he thought being in the attic. Even stranger there was a cot, a clothes rack and other odds and ends like someone was living there. Then the door opened, and a man had come through with a suit. Monroe had barely managed to get away before being found by climbing back out the window and dropping down to run, but he’d gotten a good look at the man. According to him, it was Gabriel Martel.

Nick and Hank were confused as he had no siblings listed and had seen Martel at the courthouse at the exact same time. A twin brother was the best explanation, and also explained how they were tricking Ava—one could look like “Gabriel” while the other woged and terrorized the woman. They figured they could explain it with some good masks.

“That would probably work best this time around. If she’s already thinking she’s going crazy—and her husband is behind it—I don’t think letting her know wesen are a thing would be best,” Sloane agreed, sipping her soup.

“Yeah…Wu’s being pretty good about this. I told him we needed to have someone check the house and he promised to give us a window without police. He’s leery about steeping in still…”

“If he wants to ease into it, he can try,” she cleared her throat.

“Where’s Trubel anyway?”

“I’m not sure…she left early this morning.”

“What, didn’t stay to help you?”

“I don’t need a nursemaid,” she said, frowning at him as she ate.

“Didn’t mean to imply you did. Just…sucks being sick on your own.” She looked at him and he stared back. “…Don’t tell me, Dierdre left you alone when you were sick?” he asked, knowing and dreading the answer.

“Yes, and I was _fine._ I couldn’t expect her to drop everything for me.”

Nick frowned but knew this wasn’t the time to argue. “…Something I forgot to mention earlier…Josh called me.”

Sloane paused. “Josh…Josh Porter? Rolek’s son?”

“Yeah. He was attacked in his home.”

“What?!” she coughed. Nick quickly pushed the water glass towards her and she drank. “By who?” she managed.

“He’s not sure but he doesn’t think they had good intentions. I told him not to stick around and come our way as soon as he could.”

She nodded, worried. “That’s good…It might be someone looking for Rolek’s things.”

“The key you mean,” he sighed.

“More than likely.”

“He can stay with us when he gets here, we have a spare room.”

“…You sure that’ll sit okay with Juliette?” she asked delicately.

“I think so. She’s not going to leave someone out in the lurch like that.”

Sloane thought about what she overheard—about Nick thinking of not getting his abilities back. She hesitated but looked at him. “Did you guys make a decision yet?”

Nick blew out a breath, wiping his hands over his jeans. “Not a decisive one, no. I just…don’t want to see someone else’s face when we…I mean, I thought it was Juliette before, and now it will be, but she’ll look like Adalind and it’ll feel wrong and just…”

“…I’m afraid I don’t know much about curses like these,” Sloane confessed. “Closest was my ex-boyfriend and that’s just how he was.”

Nick smiled wryly. “Yeah, we all have ones like that?”

“Oh, even you?” she shot back. “The way you talk about Juliette, I figured no one else compared.”

“They don’t, not really.” Sloane felt her heart squeeze and quickly took another spoonful of soup. “But there were others before. There was one in high school—Allison Jessop. I had to break up with her because we moved again but honestly, she was a little…clingy for me already. Talking about getting married and stuff when we were sixteen. I was kind of grateful for the move giving an excuse this time. But then she followed us! A state away, she booked a bus ticket to follow us. Showed up at the new apartment we got two nights after we got there with her bags intending to move in with us.”

“Holy crap!” she said, laughing in disbelief around a bit of chicken.

“Yeah. It was a very awkward call to her parents. Lots of crying from her “I thought you loved me!” and “We were going to be together forever!” I felt bad but Aunt Marie…heh, she took her in another room, and I don’t know what she said but Allison was ready to go soon after.”

“Yeesh…Glad I didn’t date in high school now to be honest, too many hormones.”

“Hey, that’s what made it fun sometimes,” Nick laughed.

She smiled and finished off her soup, only for a piece of rice to tickle her throat and throw her into another coughing fit where she had to lean over. Nick rushed and thumped on her back to try and help things move along. When she finally got her breathing under control, he went to rubbing her back and she sighed. “Okay, back to bed.”

“What?” she croaked, looking at him with watery eyes. 

He pulled her to her feet. “You need to rest. I wanted to keep you in the in the loop, but you’re still sick. Heck, I’m wondering if I need to take you to the doctor…”

She shook her head but grunted. “I’ll be okay, really…”

“Well, take some more medicine and sleep at least.”

She sighed but let him lead her back to the bedroom. “…Actually, I’d like to wash up,” Sloane said. “I’ve been in these clothes since yesterday. Warm shower sounds nice…”

Nick nodded. “Okay. Go ahead, I’ll put your dishes in the sink and head back out.”

“…Thanks,” she nodded. She grabbed another set of clean pajamas and shuffled to the bathroom.

When she got out from nearly boiling herself alive and completely drying her hair she actually felt better if a little sleepy. Stepping back into the bedroom, she was surprised to find her bed linens had been changed. A note was left on her pillow and she picked it up.

_Figured clean sheets might make you feel better, found these in your closet and put the others in the laundry room. Make Trubel do the wash and just rest! I’ll let you know how the case turns out. Rest up, we need our partner back._

_-Nick_

Sloane stared before smiling a little despite herself. She set the note in the drawer of her bedside table, downed her medicine and climbed in. She was further surprised to find they were warm and realized he must’ve fluffed them up in the drier before quickly making the bed for when she got out of the shower. Sighing, she buried herself in the warmth with a bigger smile.

\---------------

Adalind groaned as she slowly woke up. She’d stumbled back when she saw herself holding Hoffman’s head and had fallen backwards and passed out.

“I told you not to go back,” Hoffman said, laughing despite the admonishing tone.

Adalind blinked and looked up. The man was there, whole and unharmed, and he reached down to pull her to her feet. “What…?”

“You need to think about what you are seeing! And you need to listen!” he said. “Now, we are close to the end though. Whatever you do, don't stop when you enter this room. Get to the door on the other side.” He turned her around and Adalind was met with a white painted door trimmed elegantly in gold. It had a golden keyhole, but no handle she could see. “Remember, get the door on the other side, and you will be free! But don’t stop or you’ll be lost.”

“But how do I get into this door? There's nowhere to open it!” She pushed on it, frowning when it wouldn’t budge.

“With me. I am the key!” he chortled.

Adalind sighed, losing patience. “What do you mean, "you're the key"?” His laughter echoed down the hall and she jolted when she heard the metallic clink. Whirling around she saw that Hoffman was gone and where he stood was a large key with a triangular pommel the size of her hand. His laughter was still echoing through the halls. She picked up the key hesitantly, weighing it in her hands. She knew things were off the wall crazy, even for her. She had a feeling whatever behind that door was going to try and traumatize her. But Hoffman was trying to help. She’d caused that trauma by not listening. Is that what this stupid castle was trying to teach her?

_What am I saying, “teach me”? This isn’t sentient, it’s…it’s some kind of curse. Or I’m hallucinating because of whatever poisoned me. Or…maybe it is real…Maybe I’m just being led around to mess with me. It feels real, but then it’s not…_

Groaning, she finally walked over and pushed the key into the keyhole. _Whatever it is, I don’t have many options right now. I have to get out of here to find Diana!_

The key worked perfectly, and she stepped through into a sun filled room of the castle. Twisty, spiral columns were around the room, but so were stuffed animals of various sizes and types—a huge gorilla, little dogs and cats and birds and even a bit snake wrapped around the column. Across the way she could see another door, with a red and gold banner that said, “_The door on the other side._” A bit pedantic but at least it had a handle she could see. Easy enough as the room was maybe 100 feet across. But right next to the door was a large, ornate bassinet. It was circular, with gold material draped around the sides and red bows for decoration. It was rocking steadily, not loosing or picking up speed as it moved from side to side. Adalind knew it was a trap. It was too tempting, too perfect. There was nothing there she was sure, it was just to make her sad. She quickly moved to the door and grasped the handle, intending to get out.

Then she heard a baby in the bassinet whine and cry, a sound that was like “mama”.

“Diana?” She gasped. Her grip slackened and she hesitated before moving to the bassinet. Inside was Diana—dressed in a golden christening gown with a matching bonnet. She looked up and smiled, cooing in delight and reaching her pudgy, uncoordinated arms up to her. “Oh, my God…Oh, my God!” Adalind sobbed. She reached down and scooped her up, holding her close. “I've got you back. I've got you back at last, Diana,” she sighed, feeling tears in her eyes. She had never in her life thought she’d feel this way about anything, but the relief at just holding her daughter nearly made her drop to her knees. She was never going to leave her again!

Diana fussed a little, squirming in her grip. “Diana?” Adalind pulled her away, only to see a piglet in her arms that squealed and screamed, dropping it. The piglet immediately ran away, the christening gown trailing behind her. “No!” She turned and tried to pull open the door only to have the handle break in her grip. “No!” she wailed, slamming her fist into the door. “No!”

Then she felt the floor give out under her and she was falling. The room seemed to almost explode outward around her with no sound or fire or pain. Bits of wall and floor were floating down with her, then the stuffed animals floating down into the void and the bassinet. Then they all started breaking and bursting apart, just bits and pieces disintegrating. It felt like her body was doing the same. She kept crying out No, no, _no!_

And then she was back in her cell on the floor. “No!” she screamed, holding her head and pulling at her hair. It was all a vision. It wasn’t real. She’d been through all that for nothing.

The hinges squealed like the pig as it swung open and she flinched and looked up. Victor stood in the doorway, unaffected by her pathetic state. He walked in and knelt in front of her as she felt the tears burning her face.

“Had enough?” he asked coolly. “I told you. This cell was made for hexenbeasts. When you fight it, it fights back. The way this room is made, the stones it’s made from, all made to drive you insane.”

She choked back a sob and looked at him with begging eyes. “I'll do anything…Just make it stop.” He looked at her with consideration on what he was going to do, and she grabbed the ankle of his pants leg. “What do you want from me?” she whispered.

“I want the same thing you want,” he said, tipping her face up. There was an emotion there that made Adalind shrink back. Her anger and heart ache weren’t like this. This wasn’t even righteous anger. This was wounded pride ready to shred someone apart. “To get our child back.”

\---------------

Another couple of days passed and Sloane woke up feeling clearer headed. Taking her temperature, she sighed in relief that the fever had broken. She still felt a little tickle in her throat and chest but figured that would get better soon. It was late in the afternoon and she went to go eat a light sandwich and what was left of the chicken soup. It was less bland now that her taste was better but still not what she was craving. She then spent a bit of time sitting down catch up on the news on TV.

Trubel walked in around sundown and she smiled. “Hey, you’re up.”

“Yeah…what’ve you been up to?”

“Uh…well, since you and Nick were out of commission, I tried to do a bit of training and stuff to be prepared,” she said a little evasively. “But how are you feeling?”

“Better,” she sighed. “My fever broke, and I don’t feel like I got zombified.”

“Good…Um, so…”

Sloane looked at her curiously, waiting for her to talk, but her phone went off in the bedroom. “Ah, just a sec.” She grabbed the phone and quickly answered. “Hello?”

“Hey! You sound better,” Hank said.

“I feel better,” she smiled. “What’s up?”

“Well, we’re about to head over to Ava Diaz’s house to sting Martel and his brother, after searching all over for a mask that’s pretty perfect for what we need. Had to rush custom order it from a shop.”

“Need me to get dressed?”

“Aaah, Nick is giving me a look so I’m going to say that you’re probably not that well yet. But Monroe is with us and we’re going to get together and his place after. We figured if you were up to it you could meet us there to go over everything and have dinner. About 8?”

“I think I’m up for that,” she said, smiling. “Trubel can drive me.”

“Great. We’ll see you there, provided this doesn’t go to hell in a handbasket.”

“Don’t jinx yourselves,” she laughed, coughing softly. “See you soon.” They hanged up and Sloane walked back out. “Trubel, want to head to Monroe and Rosalee’s for dinner? Trubel?” She frowned and looked around. She’d apparently left again, and Sloane tried not to feel let down. When she didn’t get back after sunset, she decided she was well enough to drive and headed out on her own after getting dressed.

When she got there and entered the open door, she had to pause when a scent caught her nose. Savory roasted meat, a hint of spice and the tang citrus mixed. She almost had to grip the doorframe as she felt herself suddenly feel like she was a child again as this scent filtered through her old home on cold days and when she was sick. She could almost see her grandmother standing at the stove, her dark hair pulled back with that one wisp of white over her ear, humming a song. “No…” she muttered in awed disbelief, taking a deeper breath.

“Sloane?” Rosalee called, breaking the illusion.

Sloane quickly moved through to the kitchen. “Rosalee…what are you making?”

Rosalee smiled at her. “Mulligatawny soup with roasted turkey—for us, tofu for Monroe.” She pointed to a smaller pot where she was making her husband’s portion.

Sloane strode over to look and the sunny yellow soup was simmering in the pot. “I…this is…how?”

“Nick got the recipe from your aunts.”

“What?” she asked, head whipping up to her.

“He called them yesterday to see if they knew how to make it. Apparently, they have a few of your grandmother’s recipes and they emailed this one to him, and then he asked if I could make it.”

Sloane looked at the soup again, her emotions now bubbling similarly. She had no idea what to feel or how to express it.

“Here, have a taste and let me know if I got it right,” she said, grabbing a spoon from the drawer and pulling out a bit with turkey and onion. She blew on it and then held it up to her with a smile. Sloane took the bites and the taste of lemon and garlic and turmeric and all the other spices burst over her tongue. The turkey was juicy and tender, and she savored it as she chewed and swallowed, letting the heat and spice coat her sore throat.

_“There now. You’ll be back on your feet in no time, Sunny, once you get the mulligan tanny sunshine back in you.”_

“Well? …Sloane? Sloane are you okay?” she asked, quickly setting the spoon down and taking her by the shoulders.

“Wha…?”

“You’re, um…” she reached up and gently cupped her cheek, wiping at a tear.

Sloane blushed and then quickly wiped at her eyes. “I…it’s good. It’s really good,” she said, sniffing a little. “Just, um…good for the sinuses,” she sniffed.

Rosalee smiled gently and hugged her, not pressing. Sloane hugged her back, grateful in many ways and for many things.

The soup stayed on simmer as they waited for the others to get there. Juliette came on her own a short time later and was glad to see Sloane was feeling better. Then the men returned they got ready to dish it all out while they regaled them with the story of Gabriel and his brothers’ arrest—all 3 of them! Quadruplets had been a surprise, but it was known to happen with some wesen. Sloane had tea while they rest had some wine as they waited for the bread to go with the soup to be done toasting in the oven.

Sloane noticed Nick move off on his own while they waited and hesitated before going to the living room with him. “Hey…”

He looked up and smiled a little, though he was troubled obviously. “Hey…”

“…Rosalee told me you figured out to call Mim and Jean for the soup recipe,” she said, sitting down next to him.

“Ah…well, I knew it might not pan out, but I figured it didn’t hurt to try. Luckily, they had it. And a recipe for cinnamon buns?”

“Oh God, Oma’s cinnamon buns,” she gasped, then coughed a little.

Nick chuckled. “They sounded good.”

“They’re amazing. …Thank you,” she said honestly. “You…all of you keep doing a lot more than I deserve…”

Nick frowned. “Deserve? Sloane, you’re our friend, you deserve this much.”

She wasn’t sure about that in the long run, but Monroe was walking into the room before she could argue. “Oh, hey…um, I got an awesome Willamette valley Pinot for you, Nick.”

Nick smiled and nodded while Monroe sat across from them. They heard laughter from the kitchen and Nick looked over wistfully when he heard Juliette’s laugh above it all. “Haven't heard a lot of that lately…”

“Yeah, well, the spell of a hexenbeast does tend to put a damper on the good times,” Monroe said, uncorking the bottle and pouring him some of the wine.

“So, does being a Grimm,” Nick sighed. He looked at Sloane and blushed a bit. “I mean…”

“No…you’re right,” she nodded.

“Wow. Okay. You two having a little down time?” Monroe asked, looking between them.

“I'm sorry,” Nick sighed. “I'm just trying to figure this all out.”

“Dude, come on. It's a big decision.”

“I don't know,” he shook his head. “You know, I just don't want Juliette to constantly have to worry about something bad happening to me, or to her, or to one of our friends.” He looked at Sloane. “Do you worry about that?”

“Constantly,” she admitted. “But last I checked I can’t wrap you all in Kevlar and kill everything that comes close.”

Nick’s lips twitched but he looked down again. “…I’ll be honest, the thought of...Just packing it up, moving someplace new, starting a family... that's very appealing.”

_With Juliette you mean,_ a voice inside Sloane’s head said with an almost cruel glee. She gripped her mug of tea a little tighter, willing the heat to distract her.

“Hey, man, if that's what you want to do, do it. No regrets,” Monroe was saying.

Nick nodded and then took a breath. “The problem is...I like being a Grimm.”

Monroe and Sloane both blinked and glanced at one another before back to him.

“Are you serious?” Monroe asked in surprise. “You miss it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “And I'm pissed that it was taken away from me. Especially like this, and especially by _Adalind. _Maybe I didn't want to admit to it, but I want it back.”

“You want to stay a Grimm,” Sloane said quietly, her heart ramping up. He wasn’t going to leave her behind—and God, that was the feeling she didn’t want to confront. That feeling that she didn’t want Nick to leave her behind. That Grimm or not, she wanted him to stay. Wanted him to help. Wanted him…

Sloane almost dropped her mug as the feelings she had tried desperately to ignore pushed their way to the front and grabbed her to shake her down.

_I think…do I have feelings for Nick? _She stared at him, trying to rationalize when this happened, how, why her brain was betraying her like this. He was her friend! He was in love with someone else! He didn’t feel that way for her, why the hell would her stupid emotions do this to her _now_.

“Ta-da!” Rosalee said, making Sloane jump and quickly look away from Nick. It didn’t stop her heart from trying to push out of her ribs. Rosalee and Juliette were carrying a tray filled with bowls of soup and a plate of hearty bread.

“Wow, that smells so good!” Juliette said. “I might need this recipe too. You don’t mind, Sloane?”

Sloane looked at her, felt guilt welling up in her stomach, but quickly shook her head with a smile. “No, of course. Oma would want to share it.”

“Here's to the chef for tonight though!” Hank toasted, Nick rising to toast as well. Sloane managed to do so, trying to calm down.

“I just wanted to say thank you to Monroe and Rosalee for putting aside their honeymoon,” Nick said honestly, looking at the two of them. “That means a lot.”

They all smiled and toasted again. As they did though they heard a strange sound—like a whoosh of air—and a flickering, dancing light suddenly illuminated the living room.

“Did someone just open a portal to hell on your lawn?” Sloane asked, setting her cup down. She froze when she saw something was actually on fire outside. “Oh shit!”

They all rushed out the door to see a huge effigy of a symbol burning on a stake in their lawn. It was like two acute angles on either side of a line, one facing up and the other down, with a line dividing it down the middle between the angles.

“What is it?” Nick yelled, looking at it in horror. He and Juliette rushed to the side to try and get a better look.

“A Wolfsangel. It's wesen,” Monroe shouted, looking at it with a mix of horror and disgust.

“Why’s it here?” Sloane asked, staring.

“It's because we got married!” Rosalee choked out, close to tears. Monroe put his arms around her, trying to shield her from the heat of the fire.

“You better get back inside. I'll check the back,” Hank said, rushing towards the gate.

Sloane moved out more but made the mistake of breathing in a draft of the smoke and started coughing hard. The two wesen quickly pulled her inside to sit on the couch and drink some of the soup.

Outside, Nick was staring in panic and his mind was racing when Juliette grabbed his arm. “I'm ready.”

He looked at her in confusion. “Ready for what?”

“You need to be a Grimm again,” she said seriously.

Nick’s eyes widened and he quickly pulled her around the side further from the burning mark. “I'm only gonna ask you this once. Do you mean what you just said about me being a Grimm?” he asked, urgent but hopeful.

Juliette searched his face. “Is that what you want?”

He hesitated but then nodded. “Yes.”

She nodded back with a sigh and a determined look. “Then it's what I want too.”

As they were talking, Hank had come back with the garden hose to douse the burning sigil. Once the fire was out, he booted it over, panting. “What do you want to do? Should we call it in?”

Nick shook his head slowly. “Not until we talk to Monroe and Rosalee.”

“I'm gonna rip their throats out!” Monroe roared inside. They quickly moved in to see him pacing in agitation.

“Monroe...” Rosalee started.

“They got a problem, they can deal with me,” he went on. “Take me on, but this...” He snarled and his eyes flashed a glowing, bloody red. “Cowards. I mean…COWARDS!”

“We can call this in,” Nick said as they headed in and close the door.

“What good is that gonna do?”

“We can make arrests!”

“That's not gonna stop them,” he spat. Rosalee took his arm, rubbing over his back to try and sooth him despite also being on edge.

“Who is them?” Sloane finally asked, clearing her throat.

Rosalee sighed, pulling Monroe to sit with Sloane. “Most likely it's the Secundum Naturae order Nam Wesen,” she said shakily. Monroe put his arm around her, trying to offer comfort to her now. “It's a... ancient organization founded during the middle ages to keep wesen pure.”

“To them, inter-marriage is a crime against man and nature,” Monroe added.

“That raises _a lot_ of alarm bells,” Sloane said knowingly.

“This is all because you got married?” Juliette asked, more askance.

“Yeah…”

“And this isn't the first time you've dealt with them?” Nick asked, feeling they wouldn’t have gone this far so soon.

Rosalee looked down but nodded. “That cracked window in the spice shop…it was a brick.”

“It had a wolfsangel on it,” Monroe sighed.

“You should have told us,” Juliette said, worried.

“Someone should’ve told me!” Sloane added. “Someone threw a _brick_ at you?!”

“We didn't want to worry you. Any of you,” she said guiltily.

“You got your own problems.”

“We didn't think it would go this far,” she added. Sloane frowned and reached over to take Rosalee’s hand, squeezing tightly. She squeezed back and smiled.

“So, the wolfsangel is their burning cross?” Hank asked, getting angry.

“I hesitated to say it but that was my first thought,” Sloane said with a little angry wave to her voice and he nodded to her. They had a rather more unique perspective on such things.

“Yes,” Monroe said, getting up to pace again. “It was originally a wolf trap, or in my ancestors' case, a Blutbader trap.”

“It came to symbolize control over all wesen,” Rosalee said, biting her lip a she tried to breath steadily. Sloane squeezed her hand again.

“Is the wesen counsel involved?” Hank asked hopefully.

“Officially, blood purity organizations are outlawed, but there are those on the counsel who still believe inter-marriage is a sacrilege,” she said, frustration evident with the crack in her voice.

“Well, you need to stay with us,” Nick said.

“Oh, no,” Monroe said defiantly. “They are not driving us from our home.”

“Well, assuming this isn't going to be a standard police procedure, how do we find them?” Nick asked.

“I don't know. They're all wesen. That's all I know, so it's not really your problem anymore,” he said, throwing his hands.

Sloane frowned and was going to say something, but Nick’s words gave everyone pause. “Well, it's going to be.”

They all looked at him. “What does that mean?” Rosalee asked, looking between him and Juliette in surprise.

Juliette sighed but seemed resigned and determined. “Nick is gonna sleep with Adalind.”

“What? Really?” Monroe asked. “You're gonna take the potion?”

“Are you sure you're up to this?” Rosalee added.

She nodded and looked up at Nick who nodded as well. “We're sure.”

“And ready. And the sooner, the better,” Juliette added.

Sloane felt a slight knot in her stomach. She should be relieved—Nick was going to be a Grimm again. But thinking about how he had to do it made her feel…jealous? _I’m being ridiculous! I’m just not used to someone do as much as he does for me! Heck, I thought I had a crush on Rosalee before I realized she was the best friend I’ve ever had. I just need to let it go…_

\--------------

Sloane explained things to Trubel when she got home, glad that she was there at least. She was scared to know there was a wesen hate group targeting Monroe and Rosalee, but relieved Nick would be getting his powers back.

The next day Sloane was pretty much back to normal and decided to go to work. As she did, she noted a car following her. Slowing down, she pulled into a parking lot near the station rather than the garage and got out of the car. “Agent Chavez. I was wondering when you were going to talk to me.”

Chavez got out of the car as well, eyeing her. “Trubel talked to you.”

“Only after worrying you’d kill me and others,” she said, folding her arms. Nick had wanted her to avoid Chavez, but she wasn’t the type to run from a problem if she could help it. “Honestly, I’d love for you to try it. I could use a warm-up and I am very pissed at you.”

Chavez had the decency to look away. “I’d like to talk to you in private.”

“Oh, you’re inviting me? Here I thought you preferred hauling people into vans.”

“You haven’t been to work the last couple of days—”

“I had a cold. I’m sure you know where I live, too much of a coward to just knock? Also, not going anywhere with you. You want to talk, it’s on my terms.”

“…Alright. Where?”

Sloane thought a moment before gesturing. “The station will work well enough. But we’re walking. And just you, I see anyone else try to come in with us and you’ll be lucky if I acknowledge you exist. Quite frankly, you’re already lucky I didn’t end that existence.”

Chavez said nothing but motioned for the man in the car to wait and followed her into the precinct. The found a free interrogation room and stepped in. “If Trubel told you about our talk—”

“Abduction. Call it what it is,” she said coolly.

“…If she told you about that, then I’m guessing you know why I’m here.”

“I have a vague guess. But I also have a job to do, so make this fast.”

Chavez looked impatient as well but then woged into a Steinadler—growing the gray-blue feathers and large beak Sloane knew well enough. She then quickly woged back. “So, you are a Grimm…”

“Yes. And you’re going to give me a _very_ good reason not to hold you kidnapping the girl I am training and scaring her half to death against you. Now,” Sloane said darkly.

Chavez swallowed a little. Even coming off a cold, Sloane knew how to project an aura of _danger_. “We needed to speak with her. Regarding our organization.”

“Yeah, this cloak and dagger bullshit makes for a great onboard interview,” she said snidely.

“We didn’t want to risk causing a scene. Many Grimms prefer to attack on first sight…”

Sloane sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re not wrong but kidnapping and making threats isn’t a great first impression either. Not exactly building bridges. You burned mine already.”

“Fair point…Look, our organization isn’t intent on just wesen issues. We want to help make the world safe for everyone. In that regard, a Grimm would be very valuable. I’ve extended the offer to Trubel and I won’t hold telling you against her all things considered. But I’d like to extend the offer to you as well. Especially given your reputation…”

“My reputation?” she huffed. “You didn’t even know I was a Grimm.”

“I suspected. Though the last name I had for you was Sally Langston. Or Sarah Jones. Or Mary Donovan.” Sloane narrowed her eyes, her jaw ticking. “You had a lot of names over the years. Some tied with a few murders…”

“Is that a threat?” she asked.

Chavez held up her hands. “Just saying, you usually don’t work out in the open…I would think you’d be squandering your talents here, playing cops and robbers.”

Sloane smiled and laughed. “Oh, I’d have agreed with you once. But you have no idea what I do day to day here. Plus, I’m not “valuable”; I’m not a piece of memorabilia. You have no idea what I am.”

“Should I be intimidated?”

Sloane stared her down before taking a step forward and Chavez flinched back. She smiled. “If you weren’t, your hand wouldn’t be on your gun.” Chavez looked down at her waist and flushed when she saw her hand was there. She’d been trying to hide it, but Sloane was on a different level from Trubel. Sloane moved around her back for the door. “I’m not interested in your club. So, tell your men not to follow me, and not to follow Theresa either. This is my only warning because if any of them try something again, I will defend myself and what’s important to me. Please see yourself out.” She headed out back to her desk, trying to calm down. That was a decent distraction, but she needed to get to work and not think about Juliette and Nick…breaking the curse.

_That works way too well as a euphemism…_

Her desk phone rang, and she picked it up. “Larson.”

“Sloane, can I see you in my office?” Renard asked smoothly. She blinked and looked over to see him gesture for her from his seat at his desk and the phone to his ear. Shrugging, she hanged up and made her way over into his office. She was surprised to see Renard’s mother sitting in one of the chairs. “Please, close the door,” Renard sighed.

Sloane did so and walked over. “Did something go wrong with the reversal?”

“No,” Elizabeth said, smiling. “I gave Juliette the potion and we left them to have some time alone.”

“Oh…good. Then what’s going on?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

“I told my mother that her Granddaughter is currently in the care of Nick’s mother. She’s a bit…worried.”

“He let it slip that Kelly contacts you,” Elizabeth said. “I’d like to know where she is.”

Sloane frowned. “…No?”

“No?”

“Yeah, no. No one else knowing was kind of the point. Even Nick doesn’t know details.”

Elizabeth smiled and rose to look her in the eyes. “I don’t think you quite understand…I want my granddaughter.”

“And I don’t think you understand, she’s safest where she is right now until the royals are dealt with,” Sloane shot back.

“I can protect her just as well.”

“Is that why I’ve heard they tried to kill you and your son a couple of times?”

The serene smile dimmed a little. “…I guess I should’ve realized a Grimm isn’t easily intimidated.”

“Yeah. So again, Kelly can handle things.” She paused, glancing at Renard and then sighed. “It’s not her intention to just _keep_ Diana. If things can be made safe for her, she’d be fine bringing her back or settling somewhere. But she’s also apparently a strong little hexenbeast and we’d prefer she not use her powers in a way that’s going to cause anyone any harm.”

“You think I might be a bad influence?” she asked, smiling again.

“I think trying to glamor me while talking isn’t a good start on convincing me otherwise. I know what that tickle on my mind is.”

“Mother,” Renard said, looking at her.

“What? It’s not my best skill, but I thought I could give it a shot…” she said, chuckling. She looked back at Sloane. “…Sean is as worried for her as I am. Likely more so.”

“…She’s doing okay. Hitting all her milestones and then some. I’ll see if something can be worked out, but the less people getting updates the better. I doubt you want the royals getting her. Also, do not threaten Kelly—all of us stick together if you haven’t noticed and Renard’s mom or not it won’t end well for you.” She leaned over. “I’m being honest.” Renard held up his hand, apparently well aware his mother was on the verge of making enemies but having given up talking her out of it.

She nodded with a sigh. “It’s true I’d rather avoid that…” She smiled at her Sloane tensed when she reached up to gently lift her chin. “You are surprisingly kind for a Grimm, like Nick…both of you are cute of course. But I like the harder edge I can feel in you. Hopefully you don’t need to use it too much in the future. It’d be a shame to lose you.” Sloane felt a blush creep up despite herself and Elizabeth chuckled. She dropped her hand and picked up her purse. “Well, I call a truce for now. But I would appreciate some pictures of some kind. See if you can manage that and I’ll see what I can do to make things safe for her. Sean, please recover well and try not to die again.”

“I will try, mother,” he said, smiling.

She smiled back, taking his hand and squeezing it before kissing his temple. She turned and smiled at Sloane again before heading out.

“…Was your mother flirting with me?” Sloane asked.

“It’s a distinct possibility, yes,” he sighed, not surprised or affronted. “I need to get back to work and you need to catch up on some.”

“Right, yeah…” She quickly headed back to her desk, wondering what else that day was going to hold for her.

Apparently, it was another kidnapping, this time of a man out of a car that wrecked in the woods. Hank got the call and picked her and Nick up just as he was heading towards the station. Sloane took a deep breath before climbing in, thankful Nick was upfront. “Hey…so, um…How’d it go?” she asked lamely.

Nick was aware how awkward this was and sighed. “It…went well. But I’m not there yet. Elizabeth said it could take a little while to take full effect.”

“Yeah, she says a lot of things,” Sloane muttered. “How’s Juliette?”

“She’s good…better than I thought under the circumstances,” He said, smiling in relief. “I’m really lucky to have her.”

Sloane nodded a bit. “Yeah…definitely.”

They drove into he woods, parking a way back and walking up to where they had the area cordoned off with crime scene tape. Wu was waiting. “Captain give you this one specifically?”

“How’d you guess?” Hank smiled. “What do you have?”

“Car looks to have gone off the road late last night. Discovered this morning by a bicyclist,” he said, walking down the steep hill with them to where the silver SUV was smashed against a tree. The ambulance had managed to make it down much more safely and they were loading a woman onto the stretcher to be taken to the hospital.

“We know who it is?” Nick asked.

“Suleka Turner. Portland address. Car's registered to her husband, Dix Turner. First responders got here about an hour ago. She said something came out of the woods, took her husband, and dragged him away.”

“There’s the weird part,” Sloane said, nodding sagely.

“Yeah. We're searching for the husband, but no sign of him. Seat belt's been cut and there is blood, so...”

One of the EMTs came over to them. “She's pretty out of, but she's trying to say something. You might want to listen before we sedate her.”

They nodded and walked over. Suleka looked very shaken, bits of glass in her hair dark hair and tan skin, several cuts and what looked like a fractured leg all the obvious trauma they could see. She had tears in her eyes and was shaking softly.

“Ma'am?” Nick asked. “We're Detectives and we're trying to find out what happened.”

She looked at them and sniffed, trying to get her voice under control. “They tried to take me. They took my husband.”

“Who?”

“They were terrible…I've never seen anything like that,” she sobbed. “He said, they have to get another. Because they couldn't get me.”

That gave them all a chill and the paramedics had to quickly load her up to take her to the hospital.

Wu looked especially perturbed but led them over the car as he talked. “County sheriff got here before we did. They secured the area and made the determination there was a possible kidnapping, which is the reason you're here.”

“Well. They definitely hit something,” Hanks sighed, kneeling down and pulling his gloves on as he looked at the crunched in front. More specifically, a tire that was practically just rags on the rim. “This tire is shredded.” He started feeling around it and Sloane looked it over from other angles.

“That’s the least of the car’s problems,” Sloane said.

“Aha! Think I find something.” He grunted as he pulled out what appeared to be a thick wooden plank with sharp nails poking out from it.

“Well, that looks deliberate,” Sloane aid.

“What'd you find?” The turned to see the sheriff coming up to them, a woman with red-brown hair and tan skin with wide, doe-like eyes.

“Detectives Burkhardt, Larson and Griffin, Deputy Sheriff Farris,” Wu introduced.

“Good to meet you,” Nick said.

“You too,” she nodded. “Well, it looks like they hit a piece of wood with some nails in it…”

“I've seen something like this on this road before,” Nick said, taking it in his gloved hand.

“When?” Farris asked.

“About five, six years ago. One of my first cases. Maybe 15 Miles east,” he was nodding as he remembered. “Same deal. Wrecked car, two missing people. A spiked strip just like that in the tire.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember that case,” Wu said. “Nobody was ever found…”

“We need to take another look at that evidence,” Nick said.

“Yeah, bit too much of a coincidence,” Sloane agreed.

“Better get some dogs out here,” Hank added. He paused and then waved a hand. “Guys? We're not done over here.” They looked to see a wrecker crew had arrived to take the car away, marked JP & Sons.

“I'll tell them to hold off,” Farris sighed, going over to them.

“Thank you! Let's get that tire off,” Nick said. Hank gestured to the crime guys and they looked over the rest of the scene before returning to the precinct to find Nick’s old files.

“November 27th. Six years ago,” Nick said, opening the file box. He pulled out another bit of wood with nails sticking out of it, this one with red numbered tabs over each nail for evidence sake. “Homemade. Look familiar?”

“It’s another poor man’s spike strip…” Sloane said, frowning. “Whoever this is has been operating that long?”

“At least,” Hank sighed. He pulled out a file folder from his box, opening it up to read out. “The victims were Keith and Jennifer Blakely of Spokane, Washington. Reported missing at the scene. Bodies never found…It looks like there was a survivor.”

“Penny Conner,” Nick said, remembering with a deep frown. “Jennifer's sister. She was... 13 years old. Asleep in the backseat. Wasn't wearing a seat belt, got knocked to the floor during the accident.”

Hank looked at him sympathetically. “You really know this.”

“I remember what she said to me. Monsters took her sister and brother-in-law,” he said, sounding disgusted with himself.

Sloane set a hand on his shoulder. “Nick, that was a while before you inherited…you didn’t know.”

“Yeah, you wouldn't have known that six years ago,” Hank agreed.

Nick still looked guilty, remembering how he dismissed the girl’s story as just being trauma. Now he was sure in his gut it was wesen related, even if he couldn’t see them still.

“Get off!” They all looked up to see a man being dragged in handcuffs towards holding. He was fighting the officers, trying to hit out that them with his legs and body. “I told you, man, I didn't hit her!”

“Come on, settle down,” the officer grunted, holding on. Nick’s eyes widened as he thought he saw the man’s form rippling as if he were woging. He tried to move to get a better look, but they were already dragging him to the holding cells.

“You okay?” Hank asked.

“Yeah, I thought I, uh...Never mind,” he sighed. He didn’t want to get their hopes up. He did glance at Sloane who arched a brow back at him.

“Heard from the dog handlers,” Wu said, walking up. “Picked up a trail, but it dead ended back at the highway.”

“So... There was probably a car waiting for them,” Hank guessed.

“This was buried where the car went off the road,” Nick said, taking out an evidence bag and opening it up. Inside was a metal effigy of a humanoid figure made from rusted scraps welded together. But what stood out was the long, forked tongue curving down from the smooth face. “Search dog dug it up.”

“What the hell is this?” Hank asked, staring at it in confusion.

“Stuff nightmares are made of,” Wu said, looking at the tongue in particular. Hank gave him a worried look and Wu managed a smile. “Or bad art.”

“I don’t recognize it,” Sloane admitted. “If it’s wesen it’s either one I don’t know, or a ritual I’m not familiar with.”

“Well, if these crimes are connected, there may be another one of those where we were this morning,” Nick said. They glanced at one another, all knowing what they’d be doing next.

“I’ll borrow the metal detector from the supply room,” Wu said.

“We might need some shovels too,” Sloane said. Wu gave a thumbs up as he headed to the back rooms. “…He didn’t even flinch when I mentioned wesen.”

“Think he’s gotten used to it?” Hank asked hopefully.

“I don’t know if he’s ready to face one head on, but he’s at least not running from the words. Baby steps.”

They got everything they needed and headed back out to the scene, sweeping the metal detectors around.

“You know, my Uncle Andre had one of these things,” Hank said, watching his screen. He and Nick were using the detectors while Sloane and Wu stood by with shovels and Wu’s camera around his neck. “He spent hours and hours going up and down beaches. One time, he found a watch worth $5,000.”

“Wow, that's pretty good,” Wu said.

“He lost it the week before,” Hank smirked, laughing. “You can’t make this stuff up.”

Wu and Nick looked at each other but Sloane chuckled. “Hey, he broke even then.”

Nick paused when his metal detector went off. “I got something.” Sloane came over and handed him the shovel and held the detector while he dug it up. “Aaand…it’s another beer can,” he sighed.

“Popular spot,” Wu said snidely.

“Hey, working on a six-pack,” Hank said as his own went off. Wu held his detector while he quickly dug. A bigger chunk of earth came up with a very distinct shape of a lizard-man effigy.

“Not a beer can,” Wu said, leaning down to take pictures quickly. Sloane looked up and noticed the Sherriff car pull up and Farris come out.

“Looks like we got a connection,” Nick sighed. Sloane tapped his shoulder and he looked up as the Sherriff came over.

“Hey. They said I could find you guys here,” she said. She noticed Hank picking up the figure with gloved hands. “You got something?” She took a closer look at the spiny hands and long tongue with a frown. “That's kinda weird. It's important?”

“Just like another one I found six years ago,” Nick said.

“What is it? Some kind of totem?”

“Could be a signature,” Hank said, putting it into an evidence back.

She nodded then looked at all of them seriously. “I did some looking into related accidents on this highway. I went back ten years. The first was your case, six years ago,” she nodded to Nick. “Another case with similar circumstances three years after that. Young couple, last seen on route 406. They were camping and their SUV was found abandoned near a trailhead, so...Everybody assumed they got lost in the woods.”

“Campers get lost all the time. What's the similarity?” Hank asked like he had the feeling she knew.

“They left their camping gear behind,” she said scornfully.

“Where was the SUV found?” Sloane asked.

“About four Miles down the highway. That's why I came, I thought you guys might want to check it out.”

They nodded, following her back up to their cars to get to the spot. A bit more searching, and Hank’s detector beeped over an area near the road. He moved to take the shovel, but Farris beat him to the spot with a smile. “I can dig.”

“All yours,” he said, holding his hands up. She went over to start turning over the earth. On the second push in, Nick dully heard the sound of something metallic—something he shouldn’t be able to hear with a normal human ear, and it made him jump.

“Nothing here,” Farris sighed, moving to cover the hole back up.

“Wait,” Nick said quickly. She looked up ins surprise. “I thought I heard something.” All of them looked at him with varying degrees of confusion, curiosity, or skepticism. “Just, uh, keep digging where you were digging.”

“Okay…” She did so, and in the next turn of soil a rusted effigy with a long red tongue staring up at her. She stared in shock and maybe a little fear at the figure as Wu came in to take photos before they collected it for evidence.

“Anybody know any artists slash welders around here?” Wu asked.

“Couple of junkyards. They might know,” Farris said, nodding her head. “I'll look into it.”

“Alright, thanks,” Nick nodded.

“We’ll look at a few other possibilities too,” Sloane said. Nick nodded again and they loaded up to go their separate ways.

Going to the trailer, they managed to find a passage about Phansigars, who use their tongues to choke their victims. They were a subset of Skalengeck, similar to Komodo Dragons. What stood out was that the Hindu cult of Thuggee that believed in human sacrifice. The Phansigars had a more unique believe that required them also sacrifice a young couple to Kali every three years by burying the couple alive.

Also, Rudyard Kipling was a Grimm. That put a few things in perspective as he talked about slitting the Phansigar’s throat.

But the main thing they took away was that they needed a couple for this ritual. And right now, Dix Turner was their only victim, so their suspects needed a woman. The other good news was that they needed to be buried alive, so Dix must still be alive somewhere.

They explained all of this to Renard who was nodding as he looked the metal figure over. “So, this is a wesen case…”

“I didn’t know that the first time around,” Nick sighed.

“What about now?” he asked, eyeing him.

“…I’m not sure it’s coming back,” he sighed. “It’s been over a day…”

“Things take time. But if you’re still not at full power, you may need some help. The books say their part of a “cult”, that usually means multiple members.”

Nick nodded slowly, looking at Sloane. “He might have a point…”

She shrugged. “I’m feeling a lot better, but if we’re not sure how many we’re dealing with I’d rather be the one to overpower them than the other way around.”

There was a knock at the door, and they looked up to see Wu open the door. “Hey. Got the preliminary lab report on those little guys. They traced a paint on the metal. It's all automobile paint.”

“Scrap from a salvage yard,” Renard said, nodding.

“There's one out on that highway. Been there for 35 years. But it was bought out seven years ago by JP and sons,” Wu said, connecting the dots.

“Around the same time the disappearances started,” Hank nodded.

He held up a bit of note paper. “Address, anyone?”

Nick rolled his eyes and took it while Sloane looked at Wu. “Not coming with us?”

“Ah…You’re pretty sure this is wesen?”

“Yep.”

“Pretty sure,” Hank nodded.

“…Not quite there yet.”

“Hold on,” Renard said, holding up a hand and looking at them all. “Wu, you know?”

They all grimaced but Sloane was the one to look at him apologetically. “Ah…we forgot to mention that?”

“You did. How long?”

“…Since the Aswang case. The one involving my friend, Dana,” Wu said honestly. “I was not ready to really…accept all of it until recently though. I’m still kind of…”

Renard nodded slowly. “Alright…I understand. How much do you know though?”

“I know you’re…part wesen?” he said delicately. “But I haven’t asked about much more and they just mentioned it when I asked how you knew.”

“He’s been really good about it,” Nick said honestly. “I mean, he hasn’t told anyone.”

“Who the hell would believe me?” he muttered.

“You aren’t in trouble, any of you. I just prefer knowing these things, for obvious reasons. Wu, I know you’re a great cop. You seem to be doing alright now, so I’m not worried about what you’re going to do with the knowledge if you haven’t done anything with it yet besides help Nick, Hank, and Sloane. I guess, welcome to the club.”

“…Thank you, sir,” he said honestly, and the detectives all breathed a sigh of relief.

The headed out to first hit the Spice Shop for back up. Sloane called Rosalee to let her know they were on their way while Hank and Nick made a couple of calls as well. They entered just as the last customer exited and Monroe nodded to them. “Okay, so. What's the problem?”

“Phansigars,” Nick said.

Monroe blinked. “I... Never heard of them,” he said honestly, a little surprised.

“They're into human sacrifice.”

“That I've heard of,” he nodded.

“We need you to come with us,” Sloane said. “We’re not sure how many there are, and Nick is still not quite a Grimm. A Blutbad would be appreciated.”

“Guys, I... I can't leave Rosalee alone, not with what's going on,” he said, shaking his head and looking at Rosalee worriedly.

Nick sighed and nodded. “I know…”

“I hope you're not bringing a Phansigar here, because I have heard of them,” Rosalee said.

“Well, I wish what Juliette and I had gone through had worked, 'cause if I had another way to do this, I would,” Nick said a bit waspishly.

“Nick, it could still work,” Rosalee said gently.

“Yeah, well. It's taking its own damn time,” he sighed.

The door opened again, and they turned to see Juliette enter. “Sorry I'm late. I had to pick up more ammo on the way from work.”

Monroe blinked rapidly in shock and befuddlement. “I'm sorry, you brought your gun?”

She nodded, perfectly calm. “Yeah.” She then nodded to Rosalee. “Hey.”

“Hey,” hey she said, also non-plussed that Juliette was currently armed.

The door opened again and Trubel walked in. “Hey, sorry I'm late.”

“Hey,” everyone but Monroe said. She went over to join Juliette and Rosalee and it dawned on Monroe that they’d already coordinated all this.

“You're good to go,” Rosalee said with a smile.

Monroe nodded slowly and followed the detectives out without argument.

When they got to the junkyard, they found the front gate was padlocked. Luckily, they kept bolt cutters in the car for reasons like this and Nick grabbed them so they could head inside. “Monroe, stick close to Nick,” Sloane said.

“Don’t worry, I will.”

“If I didn’t need your eyes my pride might be hurt right now…” he muttered. They quieted as they got further in, heading for the center of the junkyard and following voices speaking in what they thought must be a form of Hindi.

“Sounds like some kind of ceremony,” Monroe said.

“Yeah. A ceremony where they bury their victims alive,” Nick said, moving with his gun down at his side but ready. “Let's hope we're not late—” He have a short cry and staggered, leaning against a car to his side and looking like he was in pain.

“Nick?” Sloane whispered, going to him quickly.

“Nick, are you okay?” Hank asked.

“I don't think so,” he said, pressing his free hand to his head and shaking.

“Should we get him out of here?” Monroe asked worriedly.

“No. I can hear something,” Nick said, trying to concentrate through the blinding headache. He could hear a woman groaning deliriously before the sound of her hitting the ground. Nick snapped his eyes open, realizing what that must be since it wasn’t a strange vision of somewhere else. “We have to get there.” He pushed away and pressed on and though she was worried, Sloane followed with her knife ready, Hank and Monroe with them.

They finally came to the center of the yard, where a huge lizard effigy was erected, big enough for a bonfire inside of it to light up it’s chest and mouth. It felt like they were in a Godzilla movie. An older man was chanting in Hindi while two younger men and several torches were around him, all in dark colored Kurta suits. They were in front of a rather large square shaped hole in the ground

“There they are,” Hank said

“I can't tell what they're doing,” Monroe sighed, trying to get a good look.

“Me either. Are they woged?”

“No,” Sloane shook her head. “But considering they need two people and I see two holes…”

“Can you see anything else?” Nick asked, glancing at both of them. Both she and Monroe shook their heads.

“Woged or not, I don't like what I'm seeing,” Hank said. “We have to take them down now.”

“Agreed,” Sloane said, adjusting the grip on her knife. The grip slackened when Nick grunted and nearly collapsed again against another car with a metallic bang.

“What is happening?” Hank asked.

“It's my head,” Nick choked out.

“We gotta get him out of here now,” Monroe said. Nick gave a soft cry and curled up more and Sloane frowned worriedly and knelt in front of him.

“Breath, Nick,” she said softly. “Deep breaths.” Nick tried to take in a breath, clawing at his forehead as he felt like something was trying to pull his eyes out.

“Where did they go?” Hank whispered quickly. In the moment they looked at Nick, the three men disappeared into the maze of cars.

“Help!” someone screamed from one of the pits—a man’s voice.

Nick was still trying to just breath through the pain, which was only getting worse. Hank hesitated but sighed and looked at Monroe. “Stay with Nick. Sloane, come with me.”

She nodded, squeezing Nick’s shoulder before walking out to the pits. Hank had his flashlight up with his gun to help him seek and aim, but Sloane let her eyes shift slightly to see better in the dark. Moving over, she looked down into a pit. “Holy crap…It’s the Sherriff Farris!” she said. She hadn’t anticipated they’d take her as their missing piece, but she supposed she was captured when she was inquiring about the scrap metal sculptures.

“I'm going in,” Hank said, jumping down. He knelt down to feel over her pulse.

“How is she?”

“Alive,” he sighed, working to undo the rope. “Think you can get her out?”

“I think so.” She kneeled, sticking her knife in the ground. “Monroe? Can you see about the other one? The quicker we get them, the quicker we’re out of here. We can come back to take care of the owners.”

Monroe hesitated but made sure Nick was situated by the car. “Nick, I gotta help them, okay. I'll be right back.” He quickly scrambled out from the car and rushed over to the other pit. “Oh, my God…Yeah, there’s a guy in here too.”

“I figured, can you get him out or at least go down to pass him up?” She said, watching Hank untie Farris. She was limp and had a bad looking welt around her neck that screamed “_I got choked out by long reptile tongue.”_ Hank was just about ready to pass her up when Sloane heard rushing footsteps and turned in time to see a man rushing in. “Monroe!”

He gasped but didn’t have time to defend himself as the older man slammed into him and knocked him into the pit.

“Ahh! Oh, God, not again,” he groaned, having flashbacks to the blinder jaeger incident.

“Monroe!” Sloane moved to grab her knife, but the man was already advancing, and she had to roll out of the way before he could kick her in the head.

He loomed in the torchlight and she saw his face shift briefly, but he was maintaining control for now. “You've defiled our sacred ground. Now you must be sacrificed.”

“I’ll pass, thanks,” she said, grabbing the hidden knife in her boot and throwing it at him. He dodged admirably for an older man.

“Hold it!” Another voice yelled. She looked over and felt her body go cold when the two younger men came, dragging Nick between them. She cursed herself for asking Monroe to come help and leaving him alone—a stupid mistake. “We found another one, but there's something wrong with him... he's sick or something.”

“Let him go,” Sloane ground out, ready to rip them apart.

“Hold it,” the older man said. He picked up her knife and tossed it to one of his sons who caught it expertly. “If you take another step, we’ll just slit his throat here and now and he’ll bleed out in the dirt. Quite a waste, wouldn’t you say?”

Sloane froze and then eased back, eying them. “You’re planning on killing him anyway…”

“True…but you obviously care for this man. Our sacrifices work so much better when there is a connection between the two…”

“Well, sorry, but we’re just friends,” she said snidely.

“Hm. Better than strangers. So, it’s up to you—watch him die or die without having to watch.”

She glared but one sun was holding the knife to Nick’s throat now. He looked at her blearily. “Sloane…don’t give up…”

She stared a moment before sighing and closing her eyes as she felt a pain in her chest at the thought of him bleeding out. “Don’t…kill him. Please,” she said quietly, honestly.

The older man smiled. “Then get on your knees.”

She glared but dropped to her knees.

“Sloane? What’s going on!?” Hank yelled.

“They have Nick.”

“What?!”

“Yes.” He ordered one of his sons over to her in Hindi and the man grabbed a handful of her hair. Sloane glared up at him defiantly but was watching the man as he circled in front of Nick. His brother let go of Nick to come join them while their father stood in front of Nick. “I'll take care of you...”

“Nick!” She shouted, grunting as the grip in her hair tightened. She watched as the man woged and stood over Nick. Nick was staring up at him as well, and his expression changed from one of tiredness, to hope, to awe. The man’s face, meanwhile, even with reptilian features, changed into shock.

A smile came to Nick’s face. “You’re done.” The Phansigar hissed and his tongue wrapped around Nick’s neck. Nick had managed to keep a hand up to keep it from strangling him though and rose to his feet before punching hard enough to sever the tongue out right. The older Phansigar screamed, staggering away while Nick rushed the man holding Sloane and threw his father’s tongue at him, making him back way and let her go with a shriek. Sloane got up to her feet to stand at his side while the two younger men woged and stared at them. “A Grimm?” one hissed in shock.

“Yeah... I am. And so is she.” He glanced at her and Sloane knew when he wanted to move. They both rushed them and though they took swings at them they ducked under and struck them in the face. Nick felt his strength returning—his reflexes sharper, his strikes harder. Sloane didn’t have her knife, but she was just as formidable as he was with her fists. When one tried to rush him, he managed to lift and flip him into a car windshield.

Sloane ripped one of the torches out of the ground to swing it into the father as he tried to get up again, then bringing it down again on his prone form and making him scream as it burned. She brought it off and glared down at him. “Stay down.”

Nick struck the other brother before he could get to Sloane, then unleashed a flurry of punches to the face before kicking him to Sloane who brought him down with a kick to the face. Nick panted and looked at her. “You okay?”

“Never better,” she said, grinning a bit. She then gasped and Nick turned to see the one he’d back flipped staggering to one of the pits. He loomed there and they moved to get him when he just fell forward and Monroe yelped. But the brother was now out cold and dewoged at the bottom of the pit.

“Hey, some of us are still down here!” Both Sloane and Nick got to the edge and looked down. Monroe was pressed against the back of the pit, Dix Turner next to him still passed out and tied up. He looked up and smiled when he saw them. “Guys... You were right. It was a Phansigar!”

“I know,” Nick panted, smiling.

Monroe gaped then smiled back. “You mean you saw him woged?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking at Sloane. She grinned and hugged him in relief, and he laughed and hugged her back.

Monroe was laughing as well. “That's awesome!”

Sloane pulled back and then realized just how close she was, her heart leaping up to her throat. “…Hank!” she gasped, quickly going over to the second pit with Nick close behind. Hank brought up his gun when he saw the movement then relaxed when he saw it was Sloane and Nick. “Whoa, easy. We won,” she said. Hank sighed and lowered his weapon.

“How is she?” Nick asked, looking at Farris who was still unconscious with her head on Hank’s leg.

“She'll be okay as long as she doesn't remember any of this,” Hank said. H looked at Nick, noting the healthy glow about him. “How are you?”

Nick grinned again and nodded. “I'm back. Let's get you guys out of there.”

\---------------------

They got the suspects back to the shop—they were alive if very bruised and burned and bleeding. They were already having a team explore the area and it was believed that there were four other graves—six graves in total for six victims. They also told Renard and Wu that Nick was back in action and Renard was honestly relieved in welcoming him back.

Getting back to the Spice Shop, they were glad to find that nothing had happened there. And they were glad to find out that Nick’s powers were back. Sloane watched him and Juliette have their moment, hugging each other close, and she felt that tightness again. She couldn’t deny that she was developing feelings for Nick. Not the friendly kind—she’d acknowledged he was one of her dearest friends a long time ago. Probably around the same time as Rosalee. She wasn’t sure exactly when that started to turn to a romantic desire, but now that she identified that feeling it was not going to go away quietly. She’d just have to hope with nothing to feed it that feeling would shrivel up and her friendly love for him would just remain. After all, he had Juliette…

Trubel was also emotional, hugging Nick hard as well in relief. He and Sloane were the only Grimm she knew—losing one felt isolating even if Sloane was still there.

“I, um…also didn’t tell you something I should have…” Trubel said, looking between them.

Sloane and Nick glanced at one another and then back. “…What sort of something?” Sloane asked.

“Well…some of Chavez’s guys were hanging out outside the house.”

Sloane narrowed her eyes. “That little…I told her to leave us alone…”

“She talked to you?” Nick asked.

“Yesterday morning. I warned her not to try anything again and what would happen if she did.”

Trubel shrugged. “I mean…I slashed the guys tires and took off.”

Sloane arched her brow. “All of them or just three?”

“Just three, so his insurance won’t take care of it,” Trubel said.

Sloane grinned. “That’s my girl.”

“Sloane…” Nick said, torn between amusement and incredulousness.

“What? Not every skill I teach is solely Grimm related. Sometimes it’s a little harmless revenge.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed, and she smiled.

“That’s not the big part though,” Trubel said. “I went to Nick’s to hang out and, well…”

“No one’s beheaded, are they?” Juliette asked worriedly.

“No, just…um…Josh is there.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “Oh…Oh god, that’s right…I forgot about him!”

“I kind of left him at your house…he’s pretty freaked out,” Trubel said, looking guilty as well.

Nick sighed and looked at Juliette. “I…can explain on the way home?”

“You better,” she nodded, though didn’t look too put out. “We’ll see you all later.”

“Right, later,” Monroe said as they all started heading out and their separate ways.

Sloane sighed as they drove back to the house. Chavez’s man wasn’t there anymore but Sloane checked her locks and the rooms to be safe. “You think they’ll try something else?” Trubel asked.

“I don’t know what they’d try right now…” she sighed. She looked at Trubel and patted the back of her head. “Let’s try to get some sleep though. Who knows what’s waiting for us now…”

**Author's Note:**

> I debated chopping this up more, but there's other things I want to get to so it's all going in here! Some of these guys might make more appearances--I know Ben and David will. I'm considering bringing Clay in too, I did really like him...if you have any thoughts or suggestions, I'm happy to hear them!


End file.
